Merrillian
by Snow Tigra
Summary: Dreams and visions blur the lines between reality and imagination. Who is the boy that Heero keeps seeing? And what does the suicide of his childhood friend have to do with it?
1. prolouge

Merrillian  
  
Title: Merrillian  
Series: Gundam Wing  
Author: Snow Tigra  
Rating: R  
Pairing: cheifly 1x2, but others are also involved  
Warnings: Extremely dark story line, death of a main character, darkness, angst and general creepiness  
Spoilers: this is an AU, not a chance  
Archive: Fanfiction.net  
  
Merrillian  
Prologue  
  
Life can chance in the blink of an eye.  
  
I should know, it happened to me. It happened to us.  
  
For as long as I can remember we were inseparable. Always together in everything, connected nearly at the hip and enjoying every minute. Usually one hears about two friends who met in childhood and are amazingly close throughout their entire life. Nothing could tear them apart. Well that was us, with one difference.  
  
We were three.  
  
Close friends in everything we did, it was almost impossible to catch us alone. Sure we fought at times, but everyone has little spats like that. In our case the wounds always healed faster than we could create them and were quickly forgotten, never having much pull.   
  
We spent our lives together, had our classes together, practically lived together. Our parents even began referring to us as siblings, as if we were all related and we were all one large family with three parents living in two houses. We knew everything about each other, what we liked, what we disliked, who we loved… least I thought we did.  
  
I remember that day… oh lord how could I possibly forget?  
  
Life can shatter like the most fragile of glass, a porcelain mask falling from your top shelf and all you can do is watch in shock as it drops in slow motion to the floor, where it shatters beyond recognition. You can't glue it back together; no amount of repair can even be attempted. In the end all you can do is gather up the pieces and throw them away, trying to forget. But there are still nights when you wake up and look back up to the spot… to where there is now nothing where there used to be something… and you wonder what you could have done to prevent it. Why didn't you see it coming? Why didn't you try to catch it? Why did you even place it up on that top shelf in the first place?  
  
Wasn't there something you could have done to prevent it? There just had to be…  
  
I remember walking with her down the stairs to his room. He'd slept in late and hadn't shown up for breakfast that morning when I came over. We opened the door and went down the stairs like it was any other morning, her voice calling his name to warn him of our approach, or perhaps to wake him up.  
  
His basement room was dark, but then he'd never really made a practice of using the overhead light, he always told us the darkness was more soothing.   
  
I remember her flipping on the light and everything around me seemed to flash. The image was burned in my mind, a sharp flash of light scarring my sight with something I never expected to see.   
  
I remember her scream shattering the deadly silence around us, and the sound of her crumbling down the two remaining stairs to the floor. I remember the air disappearing from my throat as I stopped breathing and just starred.  
  
I remember his body, swinging lightly back and forth, like the pendulum of a clock. It was like he left himself as a reminder, ticking away the time before we would join him.  
  
I remember backing away and hitting the cold concrete wall behind me, her screams filling the air around me like water, threatening to drown me. I didn't scream, I didn't speak, knowing that if I tried I would never stop. I just stared, trying to process the image before me, I couldn't close my eyes and yet in the same morbid sense I didn't want to.  
  
I remember the day he died every second of my life, it still haunts me.  
  
And the worst part is…  
  
He never told us why. 


	2. chapter 1

Chapter 1  
  
Author's Note: I know nothing about painting. So I'm basically pulling all such painting information out of my ass, forgive me if I'm wrong. And if I'm right… well that's just good bs-ing on my part. *smirks*  
  
"Heero?"  
  
Catherine Barton stepped out of the school building, her backpack slung over her shoulder and purse in hand. The college campus around her was awash with students. They covered nearly every grass covered surface as the sun shone brightly overhead. She stepped down onto the walkway and glanced around, intent on finding her quarry. She didn't waste any time looking among the crowd of chatting and studying students since she knew he wouldn't be there. He'd never liked crowds, and even less so now.  
  
No, she knew exactly where to find him.  
  
Frowning softly to herself, she turned down the walkway and made her way around the main building. The college campus was pretty normal sized as college campuses went, and really had nothing noticeable about it that would make it stand out to anyone who happened to stop by. A mixture of old and new buildings dotted the campus, the owners trying their best to keep most of them intact despite the worn and grooved stairs, the lousy handicapped access and mismatched walls of old and replaced wood. The overall effect gave the campus an antique feel, with brand new buildings right next to ones that looked like they'd collapse in the next high wind, but of course they never did. And she had to admit that it gave the campus a strange kind of charm… once one got used to it.  
  
Moving behind one of the older buildings, she crossed a full parking lot and glanced around quickly. The area near the river was off limits to all students due to liability issues, but no one ever listened to those rules. The trick was that she couldn't get caught, and she had no desire to get Heero in trouble either.  
  
Once she'd made sure the coast was clear, she stepped over the old chain stretched over the path and started down the steep steps, her shoes clicking just slightly. She knew he could hear her from the bottom of the steps, and to a point she purposely didn't try to hide her steps so she didn't scare him. And sure enough, after making it to the bottom without incident or more than a few slips, she found the boy sitting on a large boulder, watching the river as it flowed by.  
  
He sat there, his chin resting on his knees and his eyes glazed over, watching the water and the beautiful flower garden on the other side. The flowers were just starting to bloom and the artistically arranged color schemes were starting to make their way into sight. She smiled softly and stepped up next to him, joining him silently in watching the flowers and listening to the water. This far down near the water one couldn't hear the cars or the students above. It was the perfect atmosphere; exactly what Trowa used to like-  
  
Catherine shook her head quickly and banished that thought. She glanced down at the one in front of her, but he hadn't moved, hadn't even acknowledged her presence yet.  
  
"Earth to Heero," she said, tapping him lightly on the shoulder.  
  
The ends of his mouth tilted slightly downward in a frown but that soon disappeared. He simply blinked and leaned back a bit, revealing that - as usual - he had his sketchbook with him. Catherine knew he'd been trying to think of something to draw. Smirking lightly, she reached forward and snatched away the sketchbook, dropping her purse near her feet. He looked up in surprise, showing he was still halfway in his brainstorming mist, because otherwise he would have been able to stop her.  
  
"What are we drawing today?" She flipped through a few rough sketches she'd seen before. Meanwhile, he glanced back at the water and ran a hand through his unruly dark hair. His deep blue eyes blinked, regaining their complete focus as he banished whatever invisible muses had been whispering in his ear.  
  
"Nothing," he murmured softly.  
  
Catherine tossed him a disbelieving look and stopped as she turned to a new rough sketch. It was of a younger boy, sitting on the exact rock, gazing out across the water just as Heero was doing now. Except this boy had short hair in the back and bangs that fell across his face. Catherine smiled softly.  
  
"He'll love it."  
  
Heero nodded, and she knew he was happy to have her approval, even if he didn't show it.  
  
She closed the sketchbook and handed it back to him. "Classes are over and you still look like you're spacin'. Want a ride?"  
  
His eyebrow shot up in surprise and he finally turned his head to look at her, an amused expression on his face. In a second, the quietness of the scene around them seemed to melt away into a light atmosphere. It was unnerving how he was able to do that!  
  
"And when did you get a car?" He asked, clearly amused.  
  
"I didn't," she responded, leaning down to pick up her light green purse and brush it off. "But if we hurry we can catch the city bus back to your house." She smirked at him and nodded toward the stairs leading back up to the parking lot.  
  
Heero just shook his head and let out a soft laugh. Standing up he stretched then jumped down off the boulder taking the lead up the stairs.   
  
"You know Catherine, when you offer someone a ride that usually means you have a car."  
  
"Says who?" She countered. "Besides I've seen you nearly every day of my life, do you honestly think I could buy a car and hide it from you?"  
  
He reached the top and turned around to wait for her, this time an amused smirk covering his face. "No, you'd burst with excitement to tell me as soon as you got it."  
  
"Would not!"  
  
"You can't keep a secret and you know it!"  
  
She snorted lightly and stepped past him, heading toward the bus stop. "Some day I'll show you, Yuy." She said in a mock-angry tone. "Some day I'll come across the biggest secret in and the world and you'll be the last one to know about it!"  
  
He just shook his head and followed her to the bus, not even bothering to comment. She didn't really expect him to; it was moot point really. She knew she couldn't keep secrets, but at least she'd gotten him to smile for a bit, and that was what she really cared about. She hated seeing him so spacey and standoffish. He'd never been like this before everything happened, but a lot of things had changed since then.  
  
Too many things had changed since that day they had found Trowa's hanging body in the basement, and Heero's demeanor was only one of the things. She'd changed a lot too; it was a huge deal having to learn how to live without her twin brother hanging around her. It had been like losing a limb, but he was so much more important to her than that. She'd lost half of herself, and Heero had lost one of his closest friends in the world. Not the same loss, but still a huge one.  
  
So it fell to her to keep them both smiling, because that's what they'd always done with Trowa. She felt she owed it to her brother to help Heero be happy again. Heck, she owed it to Heero to help him; he was her close friend too after all.  
  
She jumped slightly as she felt a hand rest on her shoulder and glanced over to see Heero offering her a small smile. He squeezed her shoulder lightly as the bus drove into view.  
  
"I'm doing fine Catherine, don't worry."  
  
She smiled warmly at him and nodded, stepping onto the bus. Both paid their quarters and took seats near the back as the bus pulled away from the stop.   
  
"You?" He asked as the bus entered traffic.  
  
"Better," she admitted. "Not back to normal, but getting there."  
  
"Good enough."  
  
And for her it was… least for now.  
  
**  
  
Heero took the mail from the box and slid it under one arm, then used the other to push the door open after fumbling with his keys and unlocking it. The mail was unceremoniously dropped on the kitchen table as he removed his shoes and kicked them out of the way into the corner with his father's extra pair.  
  
The house around him was silent and dark, shadows covering nearly every corner. Dropping his backpack in the corner near his shoes, he moved through those shadows to the fridge, opening it to find a drink of some sort. Not to his surprise he was greeted with a post-it note taped to the almost-empty carton of juice. His father always liked to put the notes in strange places.  
  
Heero didn't even have to read it to know what it said. In fact, the post-it note was quite old now. So old that it required a piece of tape to hold it in place. It was the same post-it note his father had used for a good couple of months to warn his son when he'd be home late. Heero took a drink from the juice carton and tossed it in the garbage, leaving the note sitting on the counter.  
  
"You should really start leaving notes when you'll be home on time," he murmured softly.   
  
Odin Lowe Yuy, Heero's father, worked at the city museum. It wasn't standard for the job to run overtime every night, but his father seemed to have this love for museums at night when most people would find them dark and spooky. As a result he slept late in the morning and worked until late at night, long past the time that everyone left. His coworkers were more the night security people then anyone else, and he appeared to like it that way.  
  
The night owl attitude and preference for little amounts of people had rubbed off on his son so that Heero took comfort in the large empty house. He knew he loved the museum at night too when no one else was there. The times his father allowed him to come in and help that late were few and far between, but whenever they did pop up he enjoyed them immensely, even if his main interests leaned more toward painting and artwork rather than artifacts and bones.  
  
Retrieving his backpack from where he'd dropped it, he made his way toward the stairs and climbed them, not even bothering to turn on any of the lights. Years of training and living in the same house enabled him to make his way to his bedroom in the very back of the house on the second floor without incident. In fact, the only thing that disturbed him was the small cat which decided to rub up against the side of his leg and follow him to his room from the top of the stairs, weaving in and out between his feet as he walked.  
  
When he reached his room, he finally turned on the light and dropped to lay back on his bed, staring up at the vaulted ceiling in deep thought. His cat, Mimir, jumped up onto the bed without missing a beat and curled up next to him on the thick patchwork quilt. Heero smiled softly and rolled over to pet the cat.  
  
He ran his fingers through the soft multi-colored tabby fur, watching the cat roll onto its back and purr happily. Trowa and Catherine had helped him name the cat when he'd received it from his father for his birthday. They'd all spent nearly a week arguing over cute names for the cat when Trowa finally had suggested Mimir, the name of the Norse god of wisdom and inspiration. It seemed to fit, since the cat always craved attention whenever Heero was brainstorming something to paint or sketch. So it stuck. And true to its name the cat always seemed to want to cuddle whenever Heero was trying to come up with some form of inspiration.  
  
He smiled and laid his head next to the cat, smirking as one of the paws reached out to lightly bat his nose. Heero continued petting the soft fur and let his eyes drift shut. He knew his father wouldn't be home for a long while and he didn't have any homework left. So instead he set his mind on brainstorming. The anniversary of Trowa's death was coming up in a week and he'd decided he was going to paint a picture for him, even though he knew the other boy would never be able to see it. Still, he wanted to. It was just a matter of coming up with the right picture…  
  
The one that he'd sketched of Trowa sitting on the rock might work, but he almost never went with his first idea. Instead, he let his eyes drift shut and his mind relax as he began to brainstorm.   
  
Some of his best paintings came from his dreams, or so he and Catherine had always thought. In truth, he'd never gotten up enough nerve to take any classes in art or try to sell any of it or even show it to others besides those he knew really well for that matter. Painting was very personal for him, no matter how many times the others told him he could sell it easily.  
  
Thoughts swirled around in his head, merging and melding with each other smoothly like the retreating ripples in a pond. It wasn't long before he drifted off into a light sleep, his hand resting on the kitten's back.   
  
Trapped beneath that hand, Mimir decided to stay where she was and simply laid down her own head to sleep as well.  
  
**  
  
Darkness pooled around him, swirling over his head and around his body. He felt like he was floating, a small current pulling against his body. He struggled for a moment, trying to move his arms and reach out, or at least open his eyes, but his body didn't respond right away. His actions and thoughts felt fuzzy… muted, far away.   
  
Slowly they did respond and his eyes slid open. He found he was indeed floating and that the strange current around him was stronger then he'd initially thought. Light in different muted hues sped past him on either side as his body floated through the air, an invisible force pulling him gently in a specific direction.  
  
As strange as it was, he let himself be guided and didn't put up any resistance. He was curious what was going on but fully realized that whatever was happening it was a dream. He wanted the dream to continue, if nothing else then to satisfy his curiosity about where he was being pulled to. So he let himself be pulled, gliding smoothly toward the mysterious destination.  
  
The colors around him flashed quickly into a bright white and he could hear a faint mechanical beeping in the background; then all light around him snapped out of existence. His body hit against a hard surface and he stumbled to the cold ground with a cry of surprise, instinctively wrapping his body into a ball as a world of senses came crashing down around him.  
  
Suddenly he could hear, smell, taste, touch and see the world around him. His senses seemed to move into overload as he slowly opened his eyes and glanced around. He could hear the sound of chains stretching and adjusting as the weight within them shifted. He could smell fear in the air, mingling with the scent of sadness. He could taste sweat and determination in the air around him, mixed in with a heavy dose of hopelessness, tasting sour in his mouth. He could touch the cold ground beneath his hands, feeling what appeared to be thick concrete covered by an old and worn surface. And when he looked up…  
  
He could see it all.  
  
The chilling sight above him made him catch his breath and fight not to cry out or fall back onto the ground. Above him, suspended in the air by the chains as if he were caught in some massive spider web, was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen. His body held no clothing and his skin held no blemish, perfect in its softness and smoothness, even where the chains encircled his skin. The chains themselves were quite strange because they weren't the type that one would expect.  
  
One might expect the boy to be suspended in air by old and thick steel chains, rusted from age and use. But not these chains. No, these chains were small; ornate in design, reminding him of the kind people wore around their bodies as necklaces or bracelets. They certainly didn't look strong enough to support the young body above him, but apparently appearances were deceiving.  
  
Slowly, he moved back to his feet and took a few steps back so that he was no longer directly under the body and was able to look at the boy without straining his neck. To his surprise, at his movement, the boy moved too, but only a little. The head shifted, the long hair hanging down around him wavering like newly disturbed water. Both eyes slowly slid open in what looked like an immense amount of effort and moved to looked down at him.  
  
Lips moved but no words came across.  
  
"Who are you?" Heero whispered softly.  
  
The boy's lips moved more, faster this time and a sound actually escaped his throat. But it was a raspy sound and completely incoherent.   
  
Slowly, Heero reached out his hand toward one of the chains, letting his fingers brush lightly against the ornate metal. To his surprise he found it was warm to the touch, and soft, like flesh. His eyes widened as he watched a red light rush along the ends of the chains, racing up the lines toward the boy who hung in the middle. The boy met Heero's eyes for a moment, then the red light engulfed him.  
  
At the same moment, red light flashed around Heero and he felt as if something had given him a sharp push over a cliff. He felt he was falling, everything rushing up around him. He opened his mouth to cry out for help, yet the feeling of panic completely disappeared as he felt warm arms encircle him in a protective embrace. Heero relaxed and let himself just float down.  
  
Then the dream around him shattered into a thousand pieces, all washing away and fading back into darkness. Heero felt softness rush up around him like he'd landed in a cushion of feathers… or on a soft quilt…  
  
**  
  
Heero's eyes snapped open and he bolted up in bed, his eyes darting wildly around the room. Stumbling forward and completely mindless of whatever noise he made, he tumbled out of bed and reached quickly for his sketchbook. Grabbing the nearest writing utensil, he snapped the cap off the pen with his teeth and quickly set about sketching the lines on the paper. All the while Mimir watched from the bed, confusion painted across her feline face.  
  
His hand worked feverishly across the page and despite the fact that he was using a pen, and there was only a sliver of moonlight from the window, he was able to sketch out the haunting image in good detail even as the dream began to fade from his mind. By the time he'd finished quickly sketching the picture, he found that the vivid image in his mind had faded to a ghost of a shadow, only faintly resembling what now sat on the paper before him.   
  
The last thing he did was scribble a few words on the side, indicating what colors he'd seen the dreamscape in, then he dropped the pen and laid down next to it on the hard wood floor. Closing his eyes, he let go of the image, allowing it to slip the rest of the way from his mind like most of his dreams did. It didn't matter, he had most of it sketched now and that would help him recall it if he ever decided to do something with the haunting image in the future. He was done sketching it and now all his body wanted was to return to sleep and forget it.  
  
Fur brushed up against his cheek, followed by a gentle meow, reminding him that he was now lying on the floor instead of in his bed.  
  
Reluctantly, Heero opened his eyes once more and de-tangled himself from the quilt which had decided to follow him out of the bed in his mad dash for a pen and paper. Groggily, he stumbled back to his bed and pulled the quilt close around his body.  
  
Once again he drifted off to sleep, Mimir settling down in the crook between his chin and shoulders. But this time, he slid off almost immediately and there was no dream, though the image floated in the back of his mind the entire night, begging for attention. It was as if it had a mind of its own and that it wasn't simply just another nightmarish image.  
  
This creepy image was begging to be painted.  
  
** 


	3. chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
He was awakened the next morning by his father's voice calling up the stairs. Heero rolled over on his back to glance at the clock and jumped in surprise as he heard a meow of protest. He'd nearly rolled over onto his cat. Quickly he rolled back to let her tail free and received a paw swatting at his face in response. Gently pushing her away, he squinted at the clock to see the time.  
  
He groaned as his father called again.  
  
"Heero, it's almost noon!"  
  
Frowning, he forced himself to sit up and roll out of bed. Since he'd fallen asleep in his clothes from the day before, he didn't even bother to pull on a robe and change them. It was the weekend and he was allowed to not care, least not until after breakfast. Running his hand through his hair a few times to keep it from his eyes, he stumbled down the stairs and yawned. Not surprisingly, he found his father standing in the kitchen doorway, watching him with a raised eyebrow.  
  
Odin Lowe-Yuy resembled his son in a large way. Like his son, his hair was a deep brown that never seemed to want to obey any brush or comb, no matter how hard he tried. However, unlike his son, he wore his hair long, pulled back in a loose ponytail while a thin and shortly cut beard outlined the bottom of his face. That, added in with his midnight eyes, just a shade darker then Heero's, gave him a ruggedly handsome look that most women would have loved. The only thing stopping any of those women from commenting was the fact that he spent most of the time in the backs of a museum work room surrounded by skeletons, mummies and old pieces of pottery. And the fact that he was a widower.  
  
Heero merely nodded a greeting to the older man and slid into his usual chair at the table.  
  
"Late night?"   
  
Heero stifled another yawn as his father slid a plate of eggs in front of him and joined him at the table. "No, didn't sleep well." It was close enough to the truth, waking up in the middle of the night from a nightmare to sketch out a haunting image certainly qualified as not sleeping well in his book.  
  
"I heard you moving around when I got home, I thought perhaps you'd stayed up late." He shrugged and took a few bites from his plate. "Doesn't matter really. What'cha got planned for today?"  
  
Heero finished off the first egg and moved on to the toast. "I was going to work on Trowa's painting."  
  
That seemed to bring an uneasy silence down around the two of them. Odin glanced at his son with a concerned look that Heero decided not to answer or respond. His father knew how close all three of them had been. Heck, they'd spent a good amount of their time hanging out in the house in Heero's room or in the attic where his father kept all his old books from school and his supplies from when he used to teach at the local college. Odin would have had to be blind to miss how close the three of them had been, so the uneasiness was understandable. But at the same time, it occasionally bugged Heero that his father seemed to take Trowa's death so personally, almost as if it had hurt him in a profoundly deep way. Then again, maybe he was just feeling for his son, especially since Heero had also lost his mother at a very young age.  
  
"You need any supplies?" His father asked, trying to come up with some way to divert the subject.  
  
Heero shook his head. "No, I've got everything."  
  
Beside them, Mimir pounced up onto the table and sauntered over to next to Heero's plate like she owned the table. Once there, she sat down and waited patiently for someone to notice her, her tail swinging back and forth in a smooth motion. Heero flashed a light smile and took a small piece of egg from his plate, holding it out on his finger for her. She ate it happily, purring softly.  
  
His father smiled lightly. "You know you shouldn't let the cat up on the table, you'll spoil her."  
  
Heero cleaned up his plate and flashed a smile at his father; it was an old debate that really meant nothing. Standing up, he took Mimir into his arms and scratched behind her ear. "He says I spoil you," he murmured softly. The tabby responded by nuzzling against Heero and purring louder.   
  
This caused his father to let out a laugh, leaning back in his chair. He shook his head and the laugh melted into a light chuckle. "Go work on your painting, I'll be in my office after I clean up. Just don't lock yourself in your room all day."  
  
Heero nodded and walked to the door, exiting the kitchen. In truth, he'd planned on moving his stuff to the four-season porch they had in the back of the house so that he could paint while listening to the sounds of nature. Something about that always soothed him.  
  
Climbing up the stairs and to his room, he let Mimir down on the bed, making his way to the closet to find something to wear for the day. He finally decided to take a shower, even though he didn't plan on leaving the house. Stripping of his clothes, he stepped into the shower and turned the water on hot, stepping under the flow. He closed his eyes and sighed softly, letting the warmth flow over his body and wash away the rest of his sleepiness.  
  
Showers always served to calm him and stimulate his creative senses. He usually took them to clear his mind rather then just for hygiene purposes. The feel of the warm water rushing over his entire body relaxed him and let his mind wander onto things that he wanted to work on for that day. Running his fingers through his now wet hair he let his mind drift to the painting he was planning to do of Trowa sitting on the rock near the school, his favorite spot…  
  
But that wasn't the image that came into his mind. Instead, as he closed his eyes, he found himself reliving his strange dream where he stood staring at the boy. He frowned and tried to push the image away but it didn't work. Instead the image only seemed to gain more detail.  
  
Heero suddenly felt cold despite the warm water and felt a shiver move through his body. Sighing, he turned off the water and stepped out of the bathroom, quickly working to dry his body off and fight away the cold shivers which threatened. That was odd, he'd never felt this creeped-out after a shower before.  
  
Frowning, he moved to his room and selected clothes to wear for the day then grabbed his supplies and headed for the porch with Mimir close behind. Maybe the actual act of painting would set his mind at ease.  
  
**  
  
An hour passed with him out in the porch, working to start the outlines of Trowa's painting. But no matter how hard he'd tried in that last hour, he just couldn't seem to get the image to look right. Something about it was always wrong, the thickness of a line, the shade of a color… everything about it seemed just a bit too dark, a bit too depressing. He'd wanted the picture to be happy, just like he wanted to believe that wherever Trowa was now that he was happier. Still, no matter how hard he tried, it didn't seem to work.  
  
Sighing, he set down the brush and frowned at the painting. At first he'd thought the reason it was turning out so dark was that his feelings of loneliness without his friend were surfacing after he'd tried to bury them for so long. But as he worked, nothing seemed to turn out right, and he started to suspect a different culprit. A different picture in his mind wanted to be painted and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get it to go away.  
  
Too lazy to go back up to his room and get another piece of canvas, he stood up and just decided to paint over what he'd already done. Trowa's painting wasn't going to turn out today and he might as well use the piece of canvas he had rather than throwing it away and starting all new. Besides, the colors he'd already used were dark enough to fit the picture floating in his mind.  
  
Mimir sat behind him on the window ledge, watching with curiously wide eyes as he began his work. As soon as he began consciously working on the painting and not ignoring it anymore, the whole thing seemed to come out so much easier. The world around him faded away and soon came to consist only of his palette and paint brushes. He didn't hear the sounds from outside anymore, and even the fading sunlight didn't hinder him as clouds moved through the sky. In fact, he found that the fading light made it easier to paint and imagine the picture in his mind. So when the clouds grew thicker and the sunlight became much more muted, he didn't even bother to turn on the light.  
  
The air from outside shifted so he could smell it through the screen windows. Rain was approaching and that wasn't the best environment to paint nor leave a wet canvas in. So, despite the fact that his muses seemed to be on a role, he stopped and set down his brush.  
  
Mimir jumped down from the sill where she'd been resting and walked around his legs, brushing up against him. Heero frowned and took a few steps back to get a full look at what he'd painted.  
  
The image that stared back at him from the canvas seemed to do exactly that, stare. Hanging within a cave of dark and dreary colors was the boy; suspended in the air by the thin and ornate chains, his body seemed to glow in the darkness. Heero had added little bits of the red light which he'd seen rush up the chains so that everything in the picture had a soft red tint, as if the boy were being seen through a rose colored lens. His hair flowed down around his body in waves, delicately and tastefully covering what otherwise wouldn't have been hidden by his lack of clothing.  
  
Heero frowned as he looked at the image and, for a moment, his eyes drifted back to the brush. He usually loved it when his muses pulled him into a daze and he didn't really realize what he was painting until he took a step back and forced himself to stop, but this time, the whole image was just a little too creepy even for his tastes. The image of the boy hanging there… it looked so real that he almost expected the chains to sway slightly as a small rain salted breeze drifted through the room. At the very least his mind expected the hair to shift, even the slightest bit. Heero couldn't tear his eyes away from the painting, almost completely sure that the moment he did the boy would move.  
  
Shaking his head of that nonsense, he began to clean up his supplies as a light rain began to fall outside. He put the brushes away and cleaned up the palette, glancing just slightly at the painting… and froze.  
  
In the corner of his eye he watched in amazement as a hand swept across the painting, ripping the boy and the chains from where they hung. The boy's face cried out in fear and pain as he disappeared beneath the large red hand.  
  
Heero whirled around to stare at the painting, but found it to be exactly as he had painted it and the boy was still hanging there… nothing had changed.  
  
He dropped the handful of brushes and staggered backward, leaning against the wall and covering his eyes. He took a few deep breaths, then slowly opened his eyes and looked at the painting… once again nothing had changed.   
  
Heero glanced down to see Mimir staring up at him, her head cocked to one side.  
  
"I must have gotten less sleep than I thought last night."  
  
Shaking his head one last time, he grabbed the painting and carried it back to his room, being quite careful to avoid looking at it any more. As soon as he made it up to his room, he set it safely in the closet where it could dry and shut the door. As soon as the door slid shut, he was able to breathe a sign of relief, as if a huge weight had been pulled off his shoulders. Rushing to clean up the rest of his supplies, he grabbed his raincoat and left the house. He didn't care that he usually told his father where he was going; he just needed to get out of the house.  
  
**  
  
Catherine's room wasn't much to speak of, but not because it was small. In fact, it was far from small. She lived in the attic of her parents' house which spanned across the entire space of the house, making it seem more like a studio apartment then a bedroom, aside from the fact that she was missing a stove, a bathroom and a couple other household normalities. Her few belongings were scattered about the room, making it seem even larger, since they really only consisted of a bed, a cushioned chair, a TV, a Japanese table and whatever else she could fit on the shelves which lined three walls of the room. Most of the floor space was wide and open, which she used to dance in while no one else was looking. She'd always loved to dance…  
  
But now her eyes moved across the room to glance over at her friend. Heero sat on the comfy chair, the TV dancing in front of him. But his eyes weren't watching the TV; instead his head was turned and he was staring out the window as the rain pelted down. It was the same way he'd been sitting almost since she'd invited him in from the rain. He sat there now his hair finally starting to look dry, as his eyes gazed out the window with a glazed expression. She shouldn't have been surprised that he was spacing out again, he did it so often, but that didn't mean she had to like it.  
  
Closing her schoolbooks, she stood up and walked over to the chair, sitting on the armrest that he wasn't using. "Earth to Yuy, you keep acting like that and my mom's gonna store you down in the basement with all my old dolls."  
  
Heero blinked away the spacey-ness and flashed a small smile at that. "Sorry," he murmured.  
  
"It's getting late. You should probably call your dad or something. Or at least come down stairs with me so we can get something to eat, I'm hungry."  
  
He frowned for a moment, then nodded. "Cathy, do you mind if I stay the night?"  
  
Her eyebrow shot up in question. "No, of course I don't mind. I never have silly, you're always welcome to stay. Something happen at home between you and your dad?"  
  
He shook his head. Standing from the chair, he glanced around the attic room quickly then gave a small shrug. "I have to call him and tell him I'm not coming home tonight. I'll be right back."  
  
She watched him leave the room with a confused look on her face. True, she'd thought it was quite strange when he'd shown up at the door with a raincoat draped over his shoulders asking to be let in. He hadn't even taken the time to put the coat on correctly, almost like he was in an extreme hurry to get somewhere… or away from something. That by itself bothered her, and the way he spent the rest of the time sitting in her chair just staring out the window only added to her worries. Heero Yuy spaced out occasionally; everyone did, but he usually only did it when he had a sketchbook in his hands or a piece of canvas in front of him. He almost never spaced out when he was around his friends, at least he hadn't when Trowa was around.  
  
Catherine sighed and leaned back, falling into the main part of the chair. Reaching over, she hit the remote so that the noisy box switched off and then turned her gaze to the ceiling. Something was definitely bothering him, and it was big. But she knew him better than to badger him about it, that would only make him bury it more. Trowa used to be so good at getting Heero to open up and share his feelings; she wished he was here now. But then again, Trowa might actually be the source of those hidden feelings and that reminiscent look on his face. She frowned, she just couldn't win.  
  
Standing up, she smoothed out her loose jeans and walked to where she'd laid out her homework across the floor. Kneeling down, she closed what was left of the books and picked them up, dropping them on her bed, forgotten. She'd do her homework later. Right now, she was much more worried about what was eating away at Heero… not to mention that she wanted some dinner. So she left the room and headed down the stairs to the kitchen where she knew Heero had gone for the phone.   
  
Passing by the door to the basement, she lightly kissed her fingers and touched the door. It was a matter of habit now, but she always thought about him when she passed the door. It was one of the ways she'd dealt with his not being there after his death. Every time she passed the door she'd touch it, even if for only a moment. Just like how when he'd been living, if she ever found that door shut, she'd open it and go down and give him a mock lecture about cutting himself off from the rest of the world. She'd never been serious when she did that and it was usually to bug him. Most of the time, they'd both gotten a good laugh out of it and he'd shut the door just to get her attention.  
  
She smiled softly at the memory and walked into the kitchen just in time to see Heero hanging up the phone.  
  
"You didn't tell him you'd come here in the first place did you?"  
  
He shrugged lightly. "He knows if I'm not home then I'm over here. That's been the norm for the last ten years."  
  
She chuckled. "You hungry? We got cold pizza in the fridge."  
  
"Shouldn't we warm it up?" He poked back with a small smile. It was an old argument; Trowa had always hated cold pizza while Heero and Catherine loved it.  
  
"Naw, it tastes perfectly good cold, and you know it." Opening the fridge she pulled out a plate covered with aluminum foil and winked at him. Heero grinned back and grabbed two cans of pop, then followed her back up the stairs.  
  
They spread the food out on the low Japanese style table and proceed to eat, spending the rest of the night munching at the cold pizza and discussing things of no real importance. Catherine never did get a chance to badger him about what was bothering him so much, but she let it slide in favor of the current lively conversation they were having. Why ruin the mood? She hadn't had this much fun in ages.   
  
**  
  
There was that pulling feeling again, like something had latched gently around his arm and was pulling him away from where he slept. For a moment, after he tried to open his eyes, he could see Catherine's dimly lit room around him, then he was pulled away. Once again he didn't struggle against the touch, but this time he actually willed it to go faster, eager to try and solve this strange mystery and image he kept seeing.  
  
Homes flew by on the street, neighborhoods, office buildings, trees, cars and street lamps until once again he found himself in that room of muted white. Mechanical beeping echoed loudly around him and everything flashed, melting away into darkness just like the night before.   
  
This time he didn't crash onto the ground, but instead landed more softly on his feet. Shaking his head, he glanced around and looked up, not surprised to be welcomed by the exact same image of the boy being suspended above him.  
  
Except, this time there was a change, because the boy's head was turned and his eyes locked with Heero's. Heero noticed the boy's eyes were a beautiful shade of blue that bordered on violet in the strange lack of light. As their eyes met, a small smile tugged its way across the boy's face, despite the obvious pain.   
  
"Who are you?" Heero whispered quietly, stepping closer to the boy. This time, he was careful not to touch the chains, because that was the thing that had caused the dream to end last time.  
  
The boy opened his mouth and seemed to say one short word, but he still appeared to have no voice. When no sound came out, his expression fell and he frowned in disappointment. There was a pause, as if he seemed to be thinking, then he began to move. Heero watched as he strained against the chains enough to move one of his arms down in Heero's direction.  
  
At that movement, Heero felt himself slowly begin to lift off the ground. His eyes widened as the air around him seemed to become thicker, almost like he was floating in water. With a simple kick of his legs, he was able to float upward until he was right next to the boy. Staring with wide eyes, he reached out to clasp the boy's soft hand. It was ice cold to the touch and both boys gasped and shuddered from the touch.  
  
At that same moment, red light rushed up around them and Heero was knocked backward painfully. He was falling again, but this time there was no panicking for he knew he wouldn't fall. An image of the boy's face appeared in front of him; the boy was smiling, and then… darkness.  
  
**  
  
Heero's eyes snapped open and he tossed away the quilt which he'd wrapped around his body. Taking a few deep breaths, he tried to calm himself down. It hadn't been a nightmare, really, so why was he covered in sweat and chilled to the bone at the same time? His breath came in short gasps and he had to consciously work at getting his heart rate to slow in order for his body to calm down. Finally, after he'd relaxed, he shifted in the large chair to glance at Catherine's bed where she lay quietly, sleeping as if nothing had happened. Good, he hadn't wanted to wake her.  
  
Moving slowly and quietly, he stood up and set the quilt back on the chair. He took the smaller blanket he'd also been given and wrapped that one securely around his shoulders then made his way out of the large attic room. It was perfectly normal for him to sleep in Catherine's room in her large chair, so none of their parents thought twice about it. They trusted their children and knew that the friendship between the two was deep, but not anywhere near sexual.  
  
In fact, only a few years ago, all three of them had actually slept on the floor sharing one large quilt as their bed. That practice was stopped not because of their parents, but more for their own comfort. While sleeping between the warmth of others was comforting, there were just some things that one didn't feel comfortable doing after a certain age, no matter how close they are to each other.  
  
Moving down the stairs as quietly as he could, he listened to the silence, registering the soft snoring coming from Catherine's parents' room. They were just as soundly asleep as their daughter which was fine by him. He had no desire to wake them.   
  
His steps led him completely down the stairs and around the hallways to a door which was almost always closed now. Hesitating only a moment, he turned the knob and opened the door, staring down into the darkness below. He didn't bother with the light switch, not needing it to see where he was going. Very little moonlight shone down the stairs so he could barely see, but he knew the stairs by heart. He knew their exact number, which ones were grooved and worn, which ones would creak and which ones would groan. It was amazing the memories a mind would retain even after almost a year of not even looking in the same place.  
  
Placing his hand on the railing and using the other to keep the blanket wrapped around his shoulders, he began down the stairs. The air around him was cold despite the mildly warm spring days outside; the basement had always been cold. It wasn't an uneasy cold, but more comforting. He wasn't' sure how that worked, but Trowa had said once that the cold of the basement was comforting in a strange way and Heero had agreed with him. And now, even when Trowa was no longer here, the chill in the air was comforting.  
  
Only when he reached the bottom of the stairs did he reach up and flip the light switch. He was greeted by a room that hadn't changed since the last day he'd seen it. Obviously there wasn't a body hanging from the rafters, but other than that it was still Trowa's room, left exactly the way he remembered. For a long moment, he just stood there, taking in the sights as his mind painted memories over each and every single item.   
  
He remembered the old record player in the corner which would play old tunes that Trowa always seemed hold a particular soft spot. The music would play and Catherine would pester them to dance, insisting that music deserved to be danced to. But both would always sit on the bed and decline, until she became frustrated and actually grabbed their arms, yanking them off the bed and onto the floor. She'd try her best to get the two boys to dance and it always ended with them tumbling to the ground laughing until they finally gave up and just lay on the soft carpet, listening to the record finish its songs.  
  
He remembered the large and worn stuffed lion that sat on Trowa's bed, one of its eyes missing from being loved so much. Trowa had sworn up and down that he'd stopped sleeping with the stuffed animal a long time ago and that it now sat on his bed as a small piece of his childhood. Then one day his mother had tried to put it out in the pile of things to be sold at a garage sale, and Trowa had rushed in quickly to save it. He also remembered the nights where Trowa would forget that he was staying over night and would roll over to hug the stuffed lion, snuggling it tight against his chest like he used to do when he was very young. It had been such a cute picture…  
  
Heero allowed himself a wistful smile as his eyes moved across the room, looking at each of the items. He basked in the small memories like they were yesterday; remembering how they'd all laughed and smiled together. The inside jokes that had always made them chuckle, the small things that they'd always been annoyed at. Poking fun at each other, playing the old games, Catherine trying endlessly to get someone to dance with her, them always pestering Heero about showing off his paintings, the day Trowa had gone with them to the circus and the look of pure delight which had covered his face…  
  
"Gods I miss you," Heero murmured softly, his attention turning to a painting that hung on the wall. It had been a gift he'd painted for Trowa on his birthday, a kind of entering-high-school gift. It was a picture of Trowa standing in the shadows, holding a mask up to cover half of his face. The actual mask lay below the painting on a table; it had been a gift to Trowa from one of the clowns when they had visited the circus. The clown had given him the mask after it had accidentally broken. Trowa loved it and had actually taken the time to patch it up until it looked like brand new. He'd always loved that mask, just as he'd always loved the circus. So at the time it had made perfect sense for Heero to paint him with that mask…  
  
Sitting down on the old and beaten couch, Heero smiled softly at the painting. His friend's olive green eyes looked back at him with a warm look of welcome. That look in itself, despite the fact that it was from a painting, was enough to completely calm Heero even after the strange dream. Tugging the blanket closer around his shoulders, he drifted off to sleep, comforted in the thought that even though his friend was dead, he was still watching him.  
  
** 


	4. chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  
Nearly a week later, the two of them stood in the center of the large, well-kept lawn. They stood there silently, sticking out like sore thumbs in the middle of all the darkness. Neither had worn dark clothing, at least not anything darker then what they usually wore. Faded blue jeans, a green T-shirt and a slightly darker jean jacket were simple enough clothing for him to wear to someone's grave. Especially someone who'd always made the comment of how he hated that people always wore black to graves. Trowa had never liked funeral scenes, so wearing black to his grave a year after he died just didn't feel right.  
  
Catherine stood not too far from Heero, her hair pulled back in a simple short ponytail. She almost never wore her hair up, but it was a windy day. The fast moving air pulled at her loose shirt which hung past her waist over baggy jeans. She stood holding a bundle of flowers in one hand. Kneeling down, she placed the flowers on the grave, a larger rock set over their stems so they wouldn't blow away in the wind.  
  
Neither said anything. They'd decided to visit his grave that day, on the anniversary of his death, without saying much of anything. Heero frowned softly because it had been a week and he still couldn't get that dream out of his head long enough to paint something for Trowa. He hated that he couldn't stop thinking about that dream, but in the end he'd just given up. There wasn't any way he could get that strange chained boy out of his mind. So Trowa didn't get a painting, least not this year. Promising himself that he'd paint one for next year didn't comfort him much, but it was the best he could do to soften the guilt.  
  
He watched silently as Catherine kissed her fingers and touched the small stone, just as she always did to the door of Trowa's room when she thought no one else was looking. Heero closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the wind whisper across his skin. Smiling lightly, he imagined the wind carrying his thoughts and well wishes to his passed friend. He didn't feel right saying the words out loud, so he just imagined them dancing on the wind to where ever Trowa was.  
  
Be well, my friend.  
  
Heero opened his eyes and found that Catherine was standing up. She brushed off the knees of her jeans and glanced at him, sending the silent signal that she was done with whatever she wanted to say and do. He nodded once in response and both turned to head back home.   
  
Walking across the supremely cut grass they were the only figures there on that windy day, or at least that's what Heero thought until he saw the other boy walking toward them. He paused for a moment in surprise and met the boy's eyes, which looked right back at him. Those aquamarine eyes seemed to hold a sort of recognition, as if the boy knew Heero… but Heero was quite sure that they'd never met before.  
  
The blond boy gave them a short, quiet nod in greeting, then completely passed them, weaving his way among the gravestones to his destination. Heero, meanwhile, followed Catherine out of the graveyard and didn't look back, even though his mind kept telling him to do so.   
  
Part of him wanted to know exactly what grave that boy was headed for, as if it would make some difference or answer some distantly unasked question. But he shrugged those feelings off, feeling silly. After all, he'd never met that blond before in his life, so what did it matter what grave he went to?  
  
**  
  
Heero couldn't quite figure it out, but somewhere along the line he'd actually started looking forward to the strange creepy visions that filled his non-waking hours. Something about that boy hanging from those chains -- the mystery about who he was and why he was there - made him almost eager to slip into bed at night.  
  
It hadn't been like that the first few nights. Obviously and expectedly, the first few nights he'd been severely freaked by the images, but now they'd faded into something almost normal. They happened every night, always with that pulling feeling and always ending in a flash of angry red light with him falling. The pattern was obvious, but he still had no idea where the dreams originated or why he was having them.  
  
With each dream he got a step closer to the boy, or so he thought. The boy was never able to talk to him, but he always felt he was getting closer to discovering the truth, just that it was an annoyingly long and slow process. Barely anything was accomplished between the time he was pulled there and the time the red light threw him back out, but when looked at as a whole he felt he was making progress… or maybe that was just wishful thinking on his part.  
  
In any case, it gave him something to think about aside from the yearlong absence of his best friend and his mundane classes. His first year of college was drawing to a close and he was not looking forward to the summer one bit. It only meant one thing: long hours of nothing to do and far too much time to think. Sure he could spend a good amount of that time painting, but he knew he couldn't paint the whole time and his mind even wandered during painting.  
  
Even his summer job of helping his father at the museum wouldn't keep him completely occupied, so he looked forward in disgust. Summer was looming not too far from him, boring and full of far too much free time and it seemed that classes had barely started to end when he was already counting the days until they would begin again.  
  
Moving between classes, he took the time to duck silently into the hallway of the art building, leading to the studio rooms. After making sure that the hallway was mostly deserted, he slipped into a dark classroom and shut the door securely behind him.  
  
He'd spent most of his life painting, especially after his mother's death. And just because he never showed his paintings to anyone didn't mean he didn't entertain the idea often. His father had always told him that his mother had loved paintings. She hadn't painted herself, but given her heritage she'd actually had a hobby of doing Japanese and Chinese calligraphy, which was close enough in Odin's mind. Heero's father always said that Heero got his talents from his mother's side of the family.  
  
The room around him was full of easels, all with partially finished paintings drying out in the darkness. He turned one of the light switches, only enough so that he could see, and glanced around. Lucky for him the room was installed with dimming lights, so the little amount he used would never be noticed by anyone passing by in the hallways or near the windows outside. Technically, only art students from the class were allowed in the room when the paintings were drying and class wasn't in session, but that had never stopped Heero before.  
  
He moved from painting to painting, looking over the various styles as if he were at an art museum. They were so varied that it amazed him, especially since they were all paintings of the same subject. This time, the professor had chosen a still life of various glass bottles and vases with a couple glass prism paperweights thrown in for a challenge of colors. The paintings around him each had the same subject from a slightly different angle and slightly different lighting.  
  
One in particular caught his eye and Heero stopped to look at it, chancing a step closer than he usually went. This particular painting had caught the objects just as the sunlight was hitting the prism, just as the streams of light were sparkling outward in thin lines. The effect caused the painting to be incredibly colorful despite the lack of color in the original objects. In fact, the pattern of the rainbow lights radiating from the prism echoed the spider web of chains that Heero was becoming so familiar with.   
  
Heero's eyes drifted from the painting to the subjects again when he noticed movement across the room. Blinking, he noticed for the first time a large mirror reaching from floor to ceiling, covering one small section of the wall. His own reflection stared back at him, echoing the quizzical look which must have been painted across his own face. Funny, he'd never noticed a mirror in this room before. Why would a painting classroom need such a huge mirror?  
  
But he knew the answer to that one, to do self-portraits of course.  
  
He shook his head slightly, completely intending to go back to looking at the paintings when something else about the reflection caught his eye. This time, Heero froze and a small chill slithered down his spine.   
  
Forgetting the paintings, he wove his way through the room, heading for the mirror and never taking his eyes off his reflection as he walked. He couldn't tear his eyes from his own reflection as he moved closer, because with each step he took he found that it was less and less a reflection of him. But rather his reflection had longer hair, nearly brushing the back of his knees and deep blue eyes, bordering on violet.  
  
Heero came to a stop in front of the mirror, his eyes wide and his breath coming out in shuddered gasps as he tried to remind himself to breathe. In the mirror, staring back at him and breathing in the same fashion, wasn't a reflection of himself, but rather a perfect picture of the boy from his dreams.   
  
He wanted to blink, he wanted to blink and see if the image would still be there, see if it was real or not. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. What if the image disappeared? What if he blinked and then only found his own reflection staring back? He didn't want that to happen, but he also wanted to know if the reflection was real. So instead he settled on the next best course of action that popped into his head.  
  
He spoke to it.  
  
"Who are you?"   
  
Those three words drifted from his lips nearly every night when he met the boy in his dreams and every night the boy struggled to answer back. But this time, he didn't move his lips in an attempt to speak with his non-existent voice. No, this time Heero watched the image in the mirror slowly raise his hand and close his hand, leaving only two fingers out. Two?  
  
"I don't understand," Heero said softly.  
  
The boy frowned for a moment, then his hand was moving again. This time, all the fingers closed, so that they created a tunnel through the fingers with only the index finger pointing in the air. The boy held his hand like that for a moment then changed it again, this time to his fingers against his palm and his index and middle sticking up, right next to each other. Then all his fingers moved to form a tunnel shape.  
  
Those violet eyes glanced up to meet Heero's in a silent question. Heero realized the boy was asking him if he understood, but he didn't. He had no idea what those hand signals meant. Was the boy trying to do a form of charades? Was he actually spelling something out? (1)  
  
Heero blinked in confusion and that turned out to be a mistake. For immediately, the boy's eyes widened and chains snapped out of the darkness behind him in the mirror. Heero watched in horror as the chains flew out and wrapped tightly around the boy's body, then the boy was yanked backward by an unseen force. Heero took a step forward and his hand rested up against the mirror, as if trying to reach for the boy's hand, but by the time he reached the mirror he was only able to touch his own reflection and the boy was gone.  
  
"Damn it," He hissed angrily. He'd been so close!  
  
Frowning, he took a step back from the mirror and looked down at his own hand. Slowly but carefully, he began to mimic the movements the boy had made.  
  
Apparently that wasn't a good idea either, because the mirror in front of him flashed with a bright red light, surprising him so much that he stumbled backward in surprise and knocked over one of the easels. Heero's eyes widened as he heard it crash to the ground and noise from outside the room.  
  
Shit!  
  
Turning on his heels, he bolted out of the room as fast as he could, careful to turn his face as he passed the confused students in the hall. He ran as fast as he could, not wanting to get caught as soon as they discovered that he'd accidentally knocked over one of the paintings. Without hesitation, he ducked around the building and jumped over the chain, taking the old concrete stairs two at a time until he'd reached the bottom shore near the river and a spot where he knew others couldn't see him.   
  
Flattening himself against one of the trees, he held his breath as he listened to the woods around him. His ears strained to hear the sound of footsteps or voices. Had he been followed? But no, he didn't hear anyone. He hadn't given anyone enough time to follow and he doubted they'd seen his face in his mad dash for the stairs, which was fine by him.  
  
Sliding down the tree trunk he finally allowed himself to breathe and closed his eyes, commanding his heart to stop beating so fast.  
  
He half expected, when he opened his eyes, to see the boy standing there or for the world around him to flash red. That's when he realized that all these dreams and strange occurrences had gone too far. The boy, the mirror, the movement in the painting, the things he could have sworn he'd seen out of the corner of his eyes for the last few days…  
  
It wasn't just a dream anymore.  
  
He was losing it.  
  
And he was losing it fast.  
  
**  
  
That night, a knock sounded on the door while Heero and his father were cleaning up the dishes from dinner. Heero looked up in surprise at the sound and Mimir raced to the door, hoping to be able to sneak a peek of the outside world when the door was answered. Heero set down the plate in his hand and moved to the door, gently nudging the tabby cat out of the way. He was surprised to find Catherine standing at the door.  
  
She almost never knocked. In the past, she'd always strolled into the house like she lived there… so why…  
  
"Hey," she said in a soft tone, a forced smile crossing her lips. Heero immediately sensed that something was wrong. He took a step back to allow her room to enter then turned to his dad.   
  
"I'll get the rest of the dishes," Odin said without skipping a beat. He didn't even look up from the plate he was scrubbing the food off of. Years of the twins or Catherine stopping by their door gave him a pattern of what to expect from them. If they arrived at the door and were quiet, then that meant something was up, least that's what Heero knew. But apparently, his father had also picked up on the pattern as well. Heero nodded his thanks and picked up Mimir into his arms, then walked silently with Catherine up to his room.  
  
As he walked up the stairs, his mind centered on the expression he'd seen on Catherine's face. The last time he remembered seeing a look like that was when she'd ditched him and Trowa to hang out with a group of boys. She'd come back late that night smelling a bit like smoke and had explained to them that those boys definitely weren't the crowd of people she would ever hang out with again. Then they'd all had a good laugh about the situation.  
  
Her look was a mix of guilt and sadness, almost like she was keeping a secret and was about ready to burst because of it. Heero closed his bedroom door and turned to her as she took a seat on the bed, her eyes darting to the floor. Yes, now he knew she was keeping a secret. She never did keep them well.  
  
"What happened?" He asked quietly.  
  
Catherine took a deep breath and knitted her fingers together. "I should have told you sooner," she murmured softly.  
  
Heero frowned and let the cat jump to the ground from his arms where it proceeded to walk over and rub itself against Catherine's legs. Slowly, he took his chair from the desk and pulled it closer to her, straddling it and leaning against the back.  
  
"Tell me what?"  
  
Catherine lifted her eyes to look at him and he stared in shock as he saw that tears were moving down her face. She was crying?! It was a rare thing to see Catherine Barton cry and all of a sudden he felt a little helpless. He'd never really seen her cry before, what was he suppose to do? Should he comfort her? Should he embrace her and tell her everything was fine? But he ended up just sitting there and staring, completely at a loss for what else he should do.  
  
She didn't really seem to notice his reaction, because her head dropped back down and she began staring at the floor again. Her hands knit tighter together and she took another deep breath. "I heard them yelling at each other that night. I should have run in and stopped it but I was so surprised… he wasn't the type to lose his temper, Heero. But I'd never heard him so angry in my life."  
  
Heero's eyes widened slightly. "You mean… Trowa?"  
  
She nodded. "I should have run into the room. I should have said something to them, to any of them. But I couldn't. All I could do was stay out in the hall and listen as they yelled. But if I'd done something, anything, maybe he wouldn't… wouldn't have… I was too scared."   
  
Heero's body went cold as the pieces clicked together in his mind. Catherine in the hallway listening to her twin brother screaming back at their parents. The night before it all happened. And then he'd stopped by in the morning and discovered…   
  
"You know why he did it." Heero said softly. It wasn't an accusation, but rather a realization of what she was trying to tell him.   
  
In front of him, Catherine wrapped her arms around herself as her body began to tremble slightly and she gave the smallest of nods. "I didn't want to tell you," she whispered, barely even audible. "I didn't want to tell you because maybe if I'd rushed in there… maybe if I hadn't been so afraid… maybe I could have stopped him…"  
  
Heero closed his eyes and clutched the back of the chair tightly. In his mind, the scene played out like it had just happened. Every detail was perfect and clear, scarred into his mind for the rest of his life. Going down the stairs. Turning the corner. Seeing the body. Catherine's screaming. Everything. He could still see it all so perfectly. Swallowing hard, he tried to relax. The last thing Catherine needed right now was for him to break down too.  
  
"Why?" He asked, his voice choked.  
  
"Maybe I could have talked him out of it. Maybe I could have stood up with him against them. It was such a silly thing to be yelling about."  
  
"Why?" Heero repeated slightly louder.   
  
Catherine went silent, her babbling cut off. Then she spoke again in a very soft and almost wistful voice.   
  
"He was in love."  
  
Heero's eyes snapped open and he stared at her in disbelief. Trowa? In love? What did that have to do with anything?   
  
"In love?" He echoed, watching her closely.  
  
She nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes. A sad smile now crossed her face as she looked at Heero. "He hid it from us Heero, he didn't even tell us. But he was in love. All those times when he was late meeting us, all those times he stayed after school to study… He just never told us what was really going on."  
  
"But what does that have to do with anything? So Trowa was in love. If he was in love, then why did he do it? If he was in love, why would he even consider killing himself?"  
  
"I heard them threaten him. Threaten that they were going to pull him out of school. That we were going to move. Before graduation even, before he could finish high school. They hated the idea that much. That their son could… that he could…" Her voice hitched on a sob and she met Heero's eyes, her own tinged with sadness and regret.  
  
"He was in love with another boy."  
  
And those words brought Heero's world to a grinding, shuddering halt.  
  
**  
  
(1) So sue me, hand signals are really hard to describe. But pocky to all those who understood… and if you didn't then don't worry, you'll find out what they mean soon as Heero does. 


	5. chapter 4

Chapter 4  
  
Trowa was in love? With another boy?  
  
Heero was still blinking from the shock of that revelation. He'd never had anything against males falling in love with other males, or females falling in love with other females, or multi-partnered couples for that matter. It was other people's relationships and not really any of his business to pry into. To hear that Trowa had been in love with another boy wasn't what was so shocking. It was the fact that somehow Trowa had managed to hide it from his twin sister and his best friend for who knows how long. That was what shocked him.  
  
Now, the morning after Catherine had revealed all of this, most of the shock had worn off, but not all of it. After that little revelation, the rest of the night had moved in a blur. Heero had done the best he could to assure Catherine that it wasn't her fault that she hadn't seen the events coming, that she didn't need to blame herself for something in the past. After he'd finally gotten her to agree to that idea, he'd walked her home and stayed with her in her room until she'd fallen asleep.  
  
And now? It was bright and early in the morning, one week before classes were over and Heero was heading down the street with a piece of scrap paper in his hands. He'd left Catherine in her room, but only after he was sure she'd be all right and wouldn't try anything stupid. Who would have known that all those jokes about her keeping the biggest secret in the world weren't jokes at all… what bigger secret could she hold than the truth to why her brother committed suicide? Apparently, even her parents didn't know she'd overheard what had happened that night.  
  
He should have been angry at Trowa's parents for being so pigheaded and blinded. But he wasn't really, and he guessed that was mostly because he was still in shock over the news. Thankfully, he'd been rational enough to ask Catherine the boy's name and now he was headed to said boy's house, after a short bus ride to the other side of the city, a piece of paper with the scrawled address in his hand.  
  
The houses around him were very different from the kind he was used to. Granted, neither his family or Catherine's was poor, they lived comfortably enough, but they certainly weren't this rich. The houses weren't particularly large, but they still spoke of high money with their perfectly kept lawns, large garages and expensive cars. He could only imagine what the insides looked like, not to mention the owners. In spite of himself, Heero began to feel a little young and worried. This wasn't his neighborhood and he felt that he stuck out like a sore thumb.  
  
Glancing down at the paper, he found that he'd arrived at the house and he stopped to stare for just a moment. The house was tall, easily the largest on the block, if not a block in itself. Ok, that was exaggerating but the house was huge. It had pillars surrounding the door and a perfectly cut line of hedges serving as a fence. Each window had a perfectly tended flower box full of brightly colored petals and there was even a small fountain that he could see in the back garden. He couldn't see much of the house thanks to the hedges, but that didn't ruin the effect. If he'd felt intimidated before, now he felt like running scared.  
  
Slipping the paper carefully in his pocket, he took a deep breath and forced away his nervousness. The last thing he wanted to do was appear like a blithering idiot, so he slipped on the mental mask that he used when speaking with the owners at his father's museum job. He knew how to deal with authority, given enough time to prepare. Taking another deep breath, he moved down the walk toward the front door.  
  
A gentle knock, since there was no bell, brought an immediate answer and Heero soon found himself face to face with a young woman dressed in a simple black dress and white apron. A maid? He didn't think people still hired them!  
  
"Can I help you?" The woman asked in a soft voice.  
  
"I came here to see-"  
  
"Dawn?" Came a cheerful voice from behind the maid. Heero glanced over the woman's shoulder but she blocked most of his view and he couldn't see who it was coming from. "I'll take it! I know who it is."  
  
The servant looked surprised for a second, but then she nodded and took a step back. With a small bow she signaled it was clear for Heero to enter and he took two timid steps inside the door.  
  
His eyes scanned the entry hall and it took almost all he had to not let his mouth hang open. Furniture was scarce emphasizing the sheer size of the room, vaulted ceiling, shimmer chandelier and all. Heero's eyes traveled over the tasteful decorations until they came to the twisting stairway and settled on a boy about his age with golden blond hair and a bright smile.  
  
"I thought I recognized your voice." The boy said, coming to the bottom of the stairs. "You're Heero, aren't you?"  
  
Heero blinked in surprise. He'd never seen this boy before in his life! No, wait, that wasn't true. He did vaguely recognize the boy, but he couldn't quite place from where. Something about his short blond locks and aquamarine eyes made him stand out in Heero's mind. Maybe they'd passed once or twice at school, since the boy looked to be about his age. Or possibly he'd seen him on TV… Heero blinked in realization. No, he knew where he recognized this boy from; he'd been the one he'd seen at the graveyard only a few days ago!  
  
"Do I know you?" He asked in surprise, forgetting that he was the one who'd showed up unannounced at the door, not the other way around.  
  
The boy smiled and laughed softly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, its just that I haven't seen anyone my age around here for so long… would you like to sit down and talk? I assume you came by to talk to me about something."  
  
Heero nodded numbly, trying to shake off his surprise. A second later, he'd mostly succeeded and followed the boy back up the stairs to a room not very far away. Stepping into the room immediately calmed him, because it was a very familiar world.   
  
Gone were the tasteful decorations and very little furniture, giving way to a simple desk, dresser and ruffled bed that looked like it was allergic to being made. A cluttered bookshelf covered one wall while papers were spread across the desk with a small pile on the floor. Familiar territory indeed, it reminded Heero a lot of his own bedroom.  
  
"Sorry about the mess," the boy said with an embarrassed smile. "I wasn't expecting company."  
  
"Don't worry about it," Heero said with a shake of his head. He was quite glad that at his words the boy made no move to clean up the mess, apparently he got the hint that it set Heero at ease.  
  
"Do you want to sit down?"  
  
Heero blinked in the boy's direction, then couldn't help but smile a bit. "I'm sorry, I don't even know your name."  
  
The boy's eyes widened and he laughed. "Oh! My apologies for that, guess I got carried away. I'm Quatre Winner, but don't let the last name intimidate you."  
  
Heero couldn't help but stare at a moment from the boy's last name. Winner? It hadn't even occurred to him when he'd looked up the address, but now that he thought about it, he remembered that the Winner family practically ran everything in this town. Heck, they even had the college library named after them thanks to the large amount of money they'd donated to it while it was being built. Not only that, but Heero was sure that the Winner family, or at least one of their companies, owned the museum that his father worked at.  
  
He nodded and took the seat offered, which was the boy's desk chair, while the blond sat down on a window seat not too far away. Quatre's happy expression sobered a bit and dropped down a simple smile, once again putting Heero a little more at ease.  
  
"How did you know who I was? I'm pretty sure we haven't met before."  
  
"Oh, that's simple enough. Trowa told me all about you and I used to see him with you and his sister a lot. So I just put two and two together… guess I was right."  
  
Heero just nodded, that made sense.  
  
"I assume you came here because of Trowa?" The boy's expression dropped a little more, but that was to be expected, especially when Heero considered the fact that Catherine had said Quatre was the name of the boy who Trowa had been in love with. "You just found out about it, didn't you?" Quatre asked quietly.  
  
"About you and Trowa? Yeah." Heero offered a very small smile. "I'm sorry, it's still a bit of a shock. I didn't know up until now why he did it, he didn't leave a note or anything."  
  
Quatre nodded.   
  
"I don't blame you for it or anything," Heero added quickly as an afterthought.  
  
"Oh, I know that. And I'm not surprised you didn't know, we kept it a secret from everybody until he told his parents. By that time my parents had figured it out and he'd wanted to tell his parents so much. He always hated lying to people."  
  
"Yes, he did."  
  
"He was always talking about you and his twin sister. He said you were practically a brother to him. He said he hated lying to you two most of all. I think he was going to tell you…" The blond let his words drop off softly, letting the sentence hang in the air.  
  
Heero's eyes drifted quietly around the room, shifting to the desk. Standing up from the chair, he walked over to it and looked closer at the picture frame sitting next to the computer. It was a very simple wooden frame, only stained a light natural color. Within that frame was a picture of Trowa with his arms wrapped lovingly around a very happy Quatre. A small smile was on Trowa's face, the kind of smile Heero recognized as his rare one, one he only smiled with when he was truly happy. Heero couldn't help but smile softly at the picture.  
  
"He looks very happy."  
  
Quatre smiled and came to stand beside Heero, looking at the picture with him. "We were," he said in a soft voice.  
  
"How long were you two together?"  
  
"A year."  
  
Heero looked up in surprise and met the blond boy's eyes. "A year?" He echoed in surprise. Trowa had managed to hide this for a full year and not tell anyone? He never would have guessed! Which only went to show how careful Trowa had been about his actions and words, and how cautious.  
  
"A whole year. We met when his class went to the botanical gardens on a science field trip. Or rather, that's when I got up the courage to finally talk to him." A small blush crossed Quatre's cheeks but it quickly faded.  
  
Heero remembered that trip. He'd thought it strange that year that he and Trowa hadn't ended up in the same class. But then again, in high school the faculty seemed to go to great lengths to keep friends and siblings out of the same classes, for fear of them not paying attention to the teachers. By rotten luck that year, even their fieldtrips had been scheduled for different times. He did remember, though, that when Trowa walked home with them that night, he'd seemed particularly happy. They never did get a chance to weasel the reason out of him.  
  
"I should have guessed it was that day. I swear I'd never seen him that happy before. But he evaded the subject and we just kind of forgot about it." Heero gave a small shrug. "What was he like? The Trowa you knew."  
  
Quatre smiled and sat back down on the window seat, leaning against the wall. "He was really quiet. He didn't like to talk much, but he always had other ways of talking. I never felt like I was talking too much when I was around him, even though I swear sometimes he never said a word."  
  
Heero nodded and took his seat back on the desk chair, listening silently.  
  
"There was one subject he did talk about though. He loved circuses, especially the clowns. You wouldn't think that such a quiet and soft spoken guy would like the circus, but he always said he was going to take me to one one day, with you two. He said that he loved the way that Catherine would always gasp when the people danced on the tightropes, afraid they would fall. And that you… he said your eyes would always light up when you saw the large cats."  
  
Heero chuckled softly. "I didn't think anyone noticed how much I loved the lions."  
  
"I didn't believe him when he said the clowns made him laugh. He didn't laugh often enough; it was always a quiet chuckle or something very soft. I always kidded him that he didn't laugh enough."  
  
Quatre's eyes slid shut and his smile shifted to a dreamy one, as if he were remembering. "And he was one of the most caring and loving people I've ever met. I was never sad around him, even if we didn't get much time together. He always made it feel like it was worth it, that another minute was worth almost any price. Just to see him a little longer…"  
  
"You really loved him, didn't you?"  
  
"With all my heart." Quatre whispered back.  
  
Heero sat there silently, just watching the boy sit there in the window seat, his eyes closed as he basked in his own precious memories. He could only imagine what it must have been like to go to all that care of hiding a relationship, only to see it torn to pieces one morning. What had it been like to wake up one morning and realize that the person you loved was dead? That you never get to see or speak to him again. He just couldn't imagine what it would have been like. Which was why he had no intention of speaking until Quatre gave him permission. If anything, this young boy deserved more than anyone to be able to look back and smile. Heero wasn't about to interrupt that.  
  
Unfortunately, there were people who disagreed with him, because at that moment a light knock sounded at the door. Both boys turned to see who it was as the door opened and they found a taller man standing outside, his head bowed in a stance of respect. Heero guessed it was another servant.  
  
"Master Quatre, your parents request your attendance on the veranda for lunch."  
  
Quatre winced at the title and nodded. "Please tell them I'll join them in a few minutes. I have to see my guest out."  
  
The door shut and soon they could hear the man's retreating footsteps down the stairs. Quatre flashed Heero a slightly embarrassed look.  
  
"He does have a habit of being horribly formal, sorry about that. And I apologize for not being able to invite you to dine with us, but my father isn't fond of unexpected guests. He always thinks he has to do something big and formal for them."  
  
Heero nodded. "That's all right, I'm not very hungry right now anyway."  
  
Standing up, Quatre led Heero down to the front door. Once they arrived there, he smiled brightly at Heero. "I'm glad you stopped by. I don't talk about him much with my family, I really did enjoy it."  
  
"You should join us some time, for an afternoon or something. I'm sure Catherine would love to meet you."  
  
The blonde's eyes brightened at that suggestion. "I'd like that. I'd like it a lot."  
  
Heero smiled and nodded, then headed out the door, waving as he moved down the sidewalk to the main street.  
  
Quatre remained at the door, watching him walk away with a light smile at his face. He hadn't expected Heero to show up at his door, but all the same he was very happy it had happened. It had given him a chance to spend some time talking about the past, something he didn't let himself do that often. Not nearly as often as perhaps he should.  
  
"Thank you." Quatre said softly as Heero disappeared from sight. Then he shut the door and went to join his parents for lunch.  
  
**  
  
Heero arrived home to find his house quiet as usual. Mimir greeted him at the door in her usual way, by weaving through his feet and trying to trip him as he walked. He smiled down at the tabby and picked her up, scratching under her collar until she was a happy purring mass.  
  
A soft tune drifted from his father's office and Heero knew that he was doing some work for the museum, even though it was the weekend. Either that or he was catching up on his hobby of reading books on random subjects. His father loved to read thick academic volumes that had nothing to do with his chosen career and then share his new found knowledge with his son. Heero didn't mind at all, considering that such conversations with his father usually led to new ideas for unique paintings.  
  
Turning and heading for the office, he passed a mirror on the wall and was reminded about what he wanted to ask his father. He stepped into the study to find his father sitting at his desk, a thick volume in his hands. Odin didn't even look up as his son entered the room.  
  
"Heero, you might find this interesting. They just published a study about psychic talents, you know like telekinesis and empathy and the like. Well this study has a completely new take on the idea. The author claims that it might actually be genetic and therefore passed down through one's genes to their children. Of course it's a very rare recessive gene."  
  
"Of course," Heero agreed, not really listening. "Dad, do you know anything about hand signals?"  
  
His father glanced up from the book and frowned for a moment. "Possibly. I know a bit of sign language from my years in high school, if that's what you mean."  
  
"I'm not sure." Heero shifted Mimir to one arm and used his now free hand to mimic the movements he'd seen the boy make in the mirror.   
  
Odin frowned for a moment, asking Heero to repeat the movements a few times then grinned at him. "Of course, you're spelling out a word. I believe it's d u o. Duo, as in two of something. What's this for?"  
  
Heero glanced at his hand for a second then looked back at his father and shrugged. "Just something I saw in a dream."  
  
"That's pretty precise for a dream." His father cracked a lopsided smile. "Maybe it's knowledge from a past life."  
  
Heero made a sour face at that one. "Yeah, right dad. Even you don't believe in that reincarnation stuff. I'll let you get back to your book, don't stay up too late."  
  
Odin snorted and looked back down at the volume, turning the page. "You know, sometimes it boggles me that my nineteen year old son goes to sleep earlier than me. Aren't you supposed to be out partying or drinking? You are in college after all."  
  
"Dad, I'm not legal yet. You're not suppose to encourage me."  
  
Odin smirked at his son. "Oh yeah, oops." But the sarcasm was thick in his voice and one would have had to been deaf not to hear it. Heero just shook his head and headed up for his room, his cat curled snuggly against his shoulder. When he reached his room, he let the cat down onto the bed and glanced over to his desk.  
  
His college textbooks lay spread out; barely even touched since he'd dropped them there on Friday. He supposed he should have been studying for his finals next week, but they just didn't seem that important. He'd always managed to listen well in class, despite the spacey look Catherine claimed he always had, and as a result didn't need to do much studying at the end of the semester. By sheer luck, this semester he hadn't taken any classes that required major papers or excessive amounts of research on his part. So next week would fly by quickly with a rush of exams and then nothing for another three months.   
  
He frowned at the books, almost wishing he did have a paper to take his mind off of things, but he knew that even if he did have one he wouldn't have been able to concentrate. Between the messed up dreams, the anniversary of Trowa's death, finding out about and meeting Quatre and his recent hallucinations; the last thing he needed was homework to worry about. At least he'd solved part of the puzzle though. He now knew why his friend had died and despite the fact that it only rubbed in the grim reality of Trowa's death more, it did make him feel better to know the reason, even if it really didn't change anything.  
  
Dropping his shirt to the floor, he laid out across his bed and began running his hand through Mimir's fur as he let his eyes drift shut. He wasn't tired but he was impatient. He wanted to know if his father had been right about the hand symbols. Duo? The boy had held up two fingers before spelling out the word, so maybe that was right. But what could that possibly have to do with anything?  
  
Unless of course it was the boy's name…  
  
What a strange name for someone to have.  
  
With those thoughts, Heero drifted off into a light sleep and the dreamscape wasn't far in coming.  
  
**  
  
Once again, he was surrounded by darkness. The pull had been quick this time and the time it took him to be pulled every night was growing shorter and shorter. It almost felt like he was traveling somewhere, yet each time he took the journey, it became easier and quicker. Like his strange destination with the boy was getting closer each time.   
  
White light. Mechanical beeping. Darkness.   
  
Heero landed on the ground softly, his bare feet causing the cold concrete to send a shiver up his body. Rubbing his eyes, he glanced around. The chains around him twinkled lightly as if it were almost raining… or as if he was looking at the whole scene through tears of watering eyes. He frowned and looked up, not at all surprised to see the boy there.   
  
Those sad violet eyes looked back at him with a type of expectation, a shimmering of hope. The boy looked hopeful, like he was waiting for Heero to reveal something. Heero gave him a very small smile and kicked off the ground so he could float up next to the boy, which had also become increasingly easier each time.   
  
"Your name is Duo isn't it?" He said softly.   
  
The boy's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. Heero watched as those beautiful but thin lips curved into a bright smile and the boy nodded, causing the chains to tinkle around him. A lock of hair drifted down and fell in front of his face, blocking one of his eyes.   
  
Heero smiled back. He'd finally discovered the boy's name. And now they'd found a way to communicate, if only in small words in the mirror. They'd communicated just once, but the resulting feelings made him feel like he could soar to the moon for this boy. He'd discovered his name, finally!   
  
"How can I help you?" Heero asked, the world rushing out of his mouth. "How do I get you out of this? How do I get rid of these chains?"   
  
The boy's expression shifted, turning more thoughtful as he chewed on his lower lip. It took nearly all of Heero's patience to not keep asking the boy questions. He wanted to keep asking, wanted to know so much, but he realized that it wouldn't help them any. So he stayed quiet and waited to see if Duo could find a way to answer him.   
  
After a while, the boy tried to move his lips, to mouth out a word very slowly. Heero's brows knitted together and he frowned. Everyone always said that reading lips was easy, but Heero just couldn't do it. No one understood how hard it was in real life, especially if you'd never heard the person speak before in real life. Every movement of the lips could be so many different sounds that it was mind-boggling to even imagine how some people could do it. Heero certainly could not.   
  
He sadly shook his head. "I'm sorry, I don't understand."   
  
The boy's expression fell and he seemed to sag in the chains. Heero's expression fell too and he frowned deeply. There had to be some other way for them to communicate than the boy trying to speak. But him asking questions and getting the boy to nod or shake his head yes or no would take too long, and they never seemed to have long enough in these dreams. It was impossible to know what would cause the chain reaction and send Heero flying back. They couldn't afford to waste any time.   
  
This was, of course, all assuming that this boy was actually real and was actually asking for help. Heero shut his eyes sadly as those logical thoughts started to invade his mind. When exactly had he decided this boy was real? What had made him think that? How did he know that he wasn't just an elaborate figment of his ima-   
  
Heero's thoughts were suddenly interrupted as the image of bright and purple eyes filled his mind. His eyes snapped open and his head jerked up to look at the boy, who was watching him intently.   
  
"Did you do that?" He whispered softly.   
  
The boy's eyes widened a bit and he nodded.   
  
"You can send images like that into my head?"   
  
The boy nodded again, quicker this time.   
  
"Tell me how I can help you. Please. Is there someone who can help you get out of this? Someone who I can contact and talk to?"   
  
The boy's brows furrowed in thought and after a moment he closed his eyes. Heero closed his eyes as well, watching as an image began to form in his head. It was of a very young boy, a little older than ten years old. He had beautiful golden curls and aquamarine eyes…   
  
Heero's eyes snapped open, he knew that face!   
  
"Quatre?!"   
  
The boy's eyes flew open and a look of surprise crossed his face. But at that same moment, the same red light shot up around them. The light was hotter this time and Heero actually heard the boy cry out with a strangled sound. Heero was shoved backward and this time nothing caught him. He was falling, faster and faster, unable to stop his fall and he closed his eyes, bracing himself for the impact.  
  
** 


	6. chapter 5

Chapter 5  
  
Heero was awoken rather forcefully as he was thrown out of his bed and his head hit the bedside table. After landing on the floor with a loud thump, he just lay there, watching his vision spin around him. His head hurt, like he'd been hit with a ton of bricks, and for a moment he couldn't move. Not a single limb would respond to his mind's commands - he couldn't even speak - so he was just forced to lay there until it wore off.  
  
It took a long time, and after what he guessed was about ten minutes, the room stopped spinning around him and his arm responded enough for him to hold his throbbing head. He blinked a few more times, letting the shock wear off, then he left his eyes open and just stared at the ceiling.  
  
In his mind, he could perfectly see the look on Duo's face as he was thrown out of the dream. He could still feel traces of the hot red light and the incredible force that had shoved him backward. Letting out a long breath, he tried to calm his racing heart.   
  
Frowning to himself, he tried to sit up in order to move back up to his bed, but at the slightest of movements dizziness swirled around him and his stomach lurched. Heero quickly dropped back to the cold floor and stopped moving, realizing that in his current condition, even making it to the bed might make him sick. So instead, he opted to spend the rest of the night on the floor.  
  
Which was exactly where he drifted back off into a fitful and stiff sleep.  
  
**  
  
The next morning found him on the bus heading back for the richer part of town. Despite the fact of finals and the last week of classes he wasn't heading in for school. Instead, he'd sent an e-mail to his professor and begged off going to class in return for writing a small essay and taking the final on a later date that week. He would have preferred to go without the paper, but it wasn't worth complaining about because it was better than an incomplete.  
  
Riding the bus to Quatre's house, he tapped his index finger impatiently against the window as he watched the houses fly by. The dream would not leave him alone and the image that Duo had sent to his mind was as clear as ever. The boy from the image was younger, but there was no mistaking those eyes or that smile. It was definitely Quatre. And Duo's reaction when Heero had said the boy's name only confirmed it.   
  
So, if he understood Duo right, that meant that somehow Quatre would be able to help with this entire situation. Had he been in a straighter sense of mind with more sleep on his side, he might have realized that dreams always incorporate the day's events within their puzzles, albeit though in a strange form. But he wasn't willing to think about that right now. Instead, all his mind cared about was talking to Quatre about this and seeing if Duo was right. It was the first real concrete clue he'd gotten from the dream since he'd started having it, and he wasn't about to let it go any longer.   
  
Less sleep makes one impatient.  
  
This time, the bus took him directly to Quatre's block and he jumped off, surprised to find Quatre out on the lawn talking to an older man with a tennis racket in hand, resting on his shoulder. Heero noticed a small resemblance between the two, despite the older man's brown hair and mustache, and guessed that he was Quatre's father. Both stopped talking and Quatre's eyes lit up as he spotted Heero.  
  
"I didn't expect you to come back so soon."  
  
Heero nodded a greeting, only belatedly realizing that he must look like a mess due to his lack of sleep lately. At least he'd taken a shower and changed clothes before he'd rushed over. He may have been impatient, but he wasn't stupid.  
  
"Heero, this is my father, father, this is one of Trowa's friends." Quatre said, quickly introducing the two. The older man nodded a greeting to Heero, flashing him a guarded smile, then he turned back to his son.  
  
"I suppose I'll let you two speak then. Don't stay out here too long though, Quatre. You're always welcome to invite him in."  
  
"Of course."  
  
The man turned and entered the house, the door staying open just long enough for Heero to see him hand the tennis racket to a servant. Heero relaxed just slightly as he disappeared from sight; meanwhile Quatre's face turned to one of concern.  
  
"Are you all right? You… seem really stressed about something."  
  
Heero frowned and for a long time didn't say anything. No, check that, he was stupid. Because any sane person would have figured out on the way over here how to explain something like this without seeming like a raving lunatic. He had no idea how to explain any of this to Quatre, no idea whatsoever. He sighed lightly and took a step back. Well, there wasn't anything he could do about that now.  
  
"I need to talk to you about something."  
  
Quatre nodded. "Do you want to go inside? Maybe somewhere where we can sit down?"  
  
Heero shook his head. "No, I just…" He frowned again and met Quatre's eyes. "Do you know anything about a boy named Duo?"  
  
The reaction was almost instantaneous as Quatre's eyes widened and he stumbled back a few feet. A look of disbelief covered his face and he just stared at Heero, looking like he'd been stabbed in the back. Then his eyes slid into a glare and his entire expression changed to one of anger.  
  
"Get out," he spat out angrily, his voice hoarse. "Leave."  
  
Heero blinked in surprise. "But I-"  
  
"Leave now. You aren't welcome here anymore." With those sharp words, the blond turned on his heel and headed for the house in a brisk walk. Heero watched in shock as the boy nearly slammed the front door behind him, leaving Heero out on the lawn.  
  
What in the world was that?  
  
**  
  
Catherine pushed open the door slowly, wincing as the latch squeaked. She hated how Heero's door always squeaked like that, and she swore he never fixed it just because he had never liked people sneaking up on him. She stepped timidly into the room and found it completely dark with all the lights turned out and the shades drawn. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the lack of light, but when they finally did, she found Heero was lying curled up with his back to her on the bed. Biting her bottom lip, she stepped into the room the rest of the way and made her way toward the bed.  
  
"Heero?"  
  
He didn't respond, didn't even move as she shut the door behind her and turned on the lamp on his bedside table. With the small amount of light, she could now see that Heero's eyes were open and he was just staring into nothing. The lack of emotion on his face sent a shiver down her spine as she sat down slowly on the bed.  
  
Reaching forward, she placed a hand on his forehead, feeling to see if it was warm. As an afterthought, she brushed his bangs out of his eyes, waiting for him to say something.  
  
"I'm losing it Catherine," he murmured softly.  
  
Concern flashed across her face and she turned to completely face him. "Please tell me."  
  
Heero's eyes blinked once and slid shut as he drew in a shuddering breath. Pulling the blankets closer to his body, he shook his head.  
  
"Please Heero. I swear you're acting like this thing is killing you." She frowned deeply. "Is it because… Trowa…?"  
  
Heero shook his head, slower this time. "No, this has nothing to do with Trowa. Least I don't think it does."  
  
"Please tell me. You never know," she said with an attempted and failed smile. "Maybe it'll help."  
  
She watched silently as he took a deep breath and sat up, clutching the blankets tightly in his fists. One hand drifted up to hold his head and he still didn't open his eyes. "I'm seeing things," he said softly.  
  
She blinked. "Like what?"  
  
"I… I don't know. It started as a dream, a boy hanging in a web of chains. I've been having them for a couple weeks now, every night. Every night, the same thing, and he's always trying to talk to me, but can't. He can't speak, like he lost his voice. And just recently, I've been seeing him in other places. Mirrors, my reflections, and I can't seem to get him out of my head."  
  
His voice dropped off as he covered his face with his hands, breathing deeply. After a moment, he brought up his knees and hugged them, hiding his face.  
  
"At first I thought it was just a dream… but I can't anymore. It's not a dream anymore, it's real. I want to find him; I want to help him… I can't concentrate on anything any more, just the dreams. I want… no, need, to help him. But I can't figure out how."  
  
Slowly, she reached a hand over and lightly rested it on his shoulder. "Heero…"  
  
A hard chuckle drifted past his lips and he shook his head. "You probably think I'm nuts. Heck, I think I'm nuts. But I don't know how to stop it."  
  
"I don't think you're crazy, Heero," she said softly. "What I do think is that you're under a lot of stress right now."  
  
Heero looked up and opened his mouth, but she shook her head, not letting him speak.  
  
"A lot of things are going on. Finals week, Trowa's anniversary, whatever else may be going on here at home… and I'm sure my telling you about why it happened didn't help much either. I'm betting your mind took the dream and made it more detailed to give you something else to concentrate on. It's very normal, my mom used to write stories like crazy with characters leading very horrible lives, just to make her feel better about her rotten life. I should lend some of them to you some time. You should see the shit she put them through."  
  
Catherine flashed him a smile which brightened as he flashed a small one of his own.  
  
"You're probably right," he conceded, though he didn't sound very convinced.  
  
"How much sleep have you been getting lately?"  
  
"Very little."  
  
"Ok, then here's what you're going to do." She stood up and placed her hands on her hips, assuming a mother hen position. He couldn't help but crack a very small smile at that. "You're going to go down stairs and eat a healthy dinner, and that doesn't mean cold pizza and leftovers. Then you're going to take a shower and come back up here and get some sleep. Do your best to forget about the dreams and if they happen to come up again then just flow with them. You need sleep Heero, and it'll probably help. Whoever that boy is, and whether or not he needs help, I'm sure he'll understand if you ignore him for one night in interest of your own well being. After all, what good is a helper if they are near walking dead themselves."  
  
Heero nodded.   
  
"Do I need to make you dinner?" She asked in a slightly more mocking tone.  
  
Heero chuckled softly in spite of himself. "No, I should be fine. I'm conscious enough that I can microwave something, though I wouldn't trust myself with the stove at the moment."  
  
"Good." Her expression softened and she leaned forward, wrapping her arms around him in a loose embrace. "This is probably nothing to really worry about. But I'm sure that from your vantage of the problem, it looks a lot bigger. Just don't tackle it all at once, ok? Take it a step at a time and I'm sure the solution will present itself… eventually."  
  
Heero nodded and flashed her a small smile. Standing up and crawling out of the bed, he walked with her down to the door and said good bye after assuring her a few more times that he would follow her instructions as best he could.  
  
Turning away from the closed door, he addressed the empty kitchen. Once again, his father was at work and probably wouldn't be home until later that night. In fact, the post-it note taped to the small stove ventilation hood confirmed that thought. Frowning to himself, he opened the fridge to see what he could possibly scrounge up with as little thought or work as possible.  
  
Surprisingly, after Catherine's little mother hen act, he actually felt much better. She had brought up the point that he was probably going about this all the wrong way. He admitted that it probably was mostly due to stress, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that wasn't the complete truth. In either case, he was going to take her advice and not worry about it at the moment. One thing she was right about, he did need sleep. And he planned to get some after a small amount of food and a warm shower.  
  
Beyond him, the doorbell rang and Heero glanced up in surprise. Almost as if on cue, Mimir seemed to materialize near the door, watching him closely for any possibility of making it outside. He shook his head at the cat and picked her up, then pulled the door open.  
  
To his surprise, he found Quatre standing in the doorway, waiting with a carefully guarded expression. Heero blinked and stepped back, allowing him enough room to enter. Quatre took the chance and stepped in, letting the door close behind him.  
  
Heero swallowed, not sure what to say to the blond. Luckily, Quatre saved him the trouble.  
  
The blond exhaled and frowned at him. "I know you're one of Trowa's friends and I really would like to get to know you better. And I can completely understand if you blame me for what Trowa did, but… but you had no right to bring Duo into this."  
  
Heero's hold on Mimir slackened and the cat jumped to the ground easily, moving to rub up against Quatre's legs. She was disappointed though, because both boys completely ignored her. Seemingly ticked off at being ignored, the tabby cat sauntered off into the other room, intent on ignoring them right back.  
  
"You do know Duo then?" Heero asked softly after a moment.  
  
Quatre snorted. "Of course I do! The question is why you would bring such a thing up. He has nothing to do with any of this, and if you planned to use him to make me feel guilty for what happened with Trowa-"  
  
Heero quickly shook his head. "No, I never meant that!" He frowned and took a step back. "I'm not even sure we're talking about the same person anymore."  
  
Quatre blinked at that one and the anger seemed to drain out of his face. Instead, he tilted his head just slightly to the side and regarded Heero with a look of confusion. "You brought up his name, you had to know that Duo was my cousin."  
  
"Cousin?" Heero stared in surprise at that. "You mean he's real!?"  
  
For a long moment, both boys just stood there staring at each other in shock. Neither knew how to respond to the other's last words. Heero was certainly very confused with what was going on. But if he'd understood Quatre right, that meant that the boy from his dreams was actually a real person, a living and breathing person. For the first time in weeks, he felt he was actually close to figuring this out, or at least to helping Duo. Yet he still didn't dare to hope that he might actually be so close.  
  
"You… really didn't know?" Quatre whispered softly.   
  
Heero shook his head.  
  
"Then how did you know his name?"  
  
Heero grimaced. He didn't want to explain the dreams again, he didn't want any one else to think he was going crazy. But if there was even the slightest chance that Quatre could help him figure all this out…  
  
"I keep seeing him in my dreams," he said very softly.  
  
"Dreams?" Quatre's expression seemed to brighten slightly at this. "What kind of dreams? What does he look like in them?"  
  
"It's hard to explain…" Heero paused and his eyes widened in realization. "It's hard to explain, but I can show you."  
  
With those words, he led Quatre up to his room.  
  
**  
  
Quatre took a seat on Heero's bed as the boy moved to his closet. While Heero went searching for the way he was going to 'show' the dream to Quatre, Quatre's eyes roamed around the room.  
  
Despite his initial worry about going over to Heero's house, he actually didn't feel nearly as tense as he thought he would. It had been over a year since he'd locked himself in his parents' huge mansion, vowing never to leave the yard again. But the mention of his cousin's name was too intriguing a mystery to pass up. How many years had it been since he'd seen Duo last? Far too many, that was for sure. And still, after all these years and after everything everyone else had said, Quatre still believed he was alive. He refused to let himself think otherwise.  
  
Standing up off the bed, he made his way across the room to a piece of canvas mounted on the wall with a thin piece of fabric draped across. Frowning lightly, he reached for the sheet to pull it away. His curiosity always got the better of him and he knew that proper etiquette said he should ask Heero for permission first, but he didn't. No, he just wanted a small peek.  
  
The thin sheet of fabric slid away to reveal the beautiful painting beneath. The young blond boy stood with his mouth open in awe as he took it all in. Before him, in the painting, sat Trowa in a simple wooded chair. His olive green eyes gazed out of the painting, sparkling with happiness as he held the painted image of Heero's tabby cat in his lap, halfway through the gesture of stroking her soft fur. He was exactly the way that Quatre remembered him in every detail.  
  
Standing behind Trowa in the painting was a slightly older woman of Japanese descent. Her make-up was thin and very carefully done, only enough to accent her beautiful chocolate colored eyes. Her black hair was cut short, fitted to outline her face, framing her smooth white skin perfectly. She stood not a step behind Trowa, one hand clasped on his shoulder protectively, almost in a motherly fashion, and a radiant smile crossed her lips.  
  
Quatre smiled. "It's beautiful."  
  
Behind him the movement in the closet stopped and Heero stepped out, bringing another piece of canvas with him. He set it gently against the wall and walked over to stand beside Quatre.  
  
"Who is she?" Quatre asked quietly.  
  
"My mother." A faint smile lit up Heero's face. "She died just after we moved here and I met Trowa and Catherine. I painted this after he died… it was my way of helping myself remember that she would take care of my friend for me. I don't remember much about her, but I do remember that she loved Trowa and Catherine. She acted like we were all siblings."  
  
Quatre smiled and nodded. "I'm sure she's with him now and that they are taking care of each other."  
  
Heero nodded, the smile disappearing from his face. Turning, he led Quatre back over to the closet. "I did one of the dream after the first time I had it. Usually if I paint my dreams they go away, but this one didn't. Still… it will probably give a better description then I ever could."  
  
Quatre swallowed and nodded. He waited silently as Heero reached forward and turned the painting around. What he saw made his legs tremble and he had to stumble backward to catch the bed to keep his balance. Numbly, he dropped onto the bed, his hand coming up to clutch over his heart as he shook his head.  
  
In the air around him, he felt a cold and icy chill.   
  
"Duo…" he choked out softly. Shaking his head in disbelief, he addressed Heero without tearing his eyes from the painting. "This is what you see? Every night?"  
  
"Every night."  
  
Quatre hugged himself quietly, his body trembling just a bit more. There was absolutely no mistaking it. That was his cousin. The cousin he'd lost nearly five years ago.   
  
If nothing else, this painting confirmed his suspicions that Duo was still alive. But this had to be the worst possible way to find out the truth. And Quatre couldn't take it.  
  
Uttering a soft gasp his eyes slipped shut and darkness engulfed him. Quatre tumbled to the floor, unconscious. 


	7. chapter 6

Chapter 6  
  
"Duo!"  
  
A young boy of about ten turned around, a bright grin painted across his face. The movement caused his waist long light brown braid to bounce off his back and hit the picnic table gently. Duo smirked and leaned over the patio table, his grin widening from ear to ear as he waved to his cousin who was racing toward him.  
  
As Quatre came closer, he realized that Duo was sitting with a bowl of water in front of him. The bowl was made of red tinted glass; the kind Quatre's mother always loved to collect. Quatre slowed to a halt as he came to the table.  
  
"What are you doing?" He asked, his eyes shining with curiosity.  
  
"I want to try a new trick I learned. Wanna try with me?" Duo's violet eyes smiled back at Quatre as he nodded and moved around the table to lean over the bowl of water with his cousin.  
  
"What do we do?" The young blond asked.  
  
"Ask the water a question. It'll answer back."  
  
Quatre giggled. "No it won't, silly. Water can't talk."  
  
Duo's eyes took on a glint of mischief as he glanced to his cousin. "How do you know that? Have you ever tried talking to water before?"  
  
"Of course not! It can't talk; it doesn't have a mouth! You can't talk without a mouth!"  
  
"Oh I don't know… I bet it can find other ways. Ask it a question already!"  
  
Quatre giggled and leaned forward until he could see his reflection smiling back at him in the clear water. He pursed his lips quietly, trying to think of something to ask it. Then he shrugged. "Tell me about my friends, will I have many in the future?"  
  
The blond stayed there for a moment, just watching his own eyes in the clear depths, reflected back twice off the water and the bowl. He could hear the bird chirping around him in the summer day and he could hear a soft breeze rustling branches above him. A bug zoomed by his ear, close enough to tickle… but there was nothing else. Quatre frowned and leaned back, away from the bowl.  
  
"I don't think it worked, Duo."  
  
Duo didn't answer, causing Quatre to turn and look at him in confusion. His cousin was very rarely silent. He found Duo rocking just the slightest bit back and forth, with his eyes slid mostly shut. Quatre frowned in worry.  
  
"Duo?" He asked softly.  
  
"You have one…" Duo said in a very soft voice. "A very close friend who means the world to you."  
  
Quatre blinked. "Not funny Duo… stop joking around."  
  
But Duo didn't stop. In fact he didn't even seem to hear Quatre's voice, he just kept speaking. "You… love him even. But you never get a chance to be together. Because soon he goes away…"  
  
Quatre shook his head and grabbed Duo's shoulders, rocking him none too gently. "Duo stop it! You're scaring me! Stop it!"  
  
"He goes away without warning… he dies… he-"  
  
"Duo! Stop!" Quatre shook Duo so hard that the table rocked with them and the bowl of water jerked quickly from side to side. Water splashed over the sides and it tumbled to the grassy ground, landing upside down, no longer holding any water.  
  
Duo's eyes blinked open and he gasped softly, glancing around in surprise. "What the…?"  
  
"That wasn't funny!" Quatre said, jumping down from the table. Carefully he leaned down and picked up the bowl, glad to find it wasn't broken.  
  
"I'm sorry, Quat." Duo said softly.  
  
But his normally violet eyes held a haunted look, as if there was something he wasn't saying…  
  
**  
  
"Quatre?"  
  
The blond groaned softly, turning his head away as Heero gently shook his shoulder. Another gentle shake and Quatre finally started to respond. He rolled onto his side and his eyes slid open. Blinking in confusion, he glanced around the room. The first thing he noticed was that the dream painting was gone; Heero had removed it from sight.  
  
"What happened?" He murmured quietly as Heero helped him sit up.  
  
"You saw the painting and then you fainted."  
  
Quatre closed his eyes to remember what had happened, replaying the scene in his head, while Heero watched him closely. A second later he nodded, opening his eyes again. "I'm sorry about that. I just… I didn't expect to see him like that."  
  
Heero nodded, not saying anymore.   
  
"My apologies," Quatre said after a moment. "I think I understand now, and I shouldn't have blown up at you like that when you showed up at my house. It's just that…"  
  
Heero took a seat on the bed next to him and frowned softly. "Something happened to him, didn't it?"  
  
The blond boy frowned a bit and brought his knees up to hug them lightly. All his life he'd been raised in a household where one handled their own problems. His parents, despite the fact that they loved him dearly, had never had the time to play their proper role. To him, Duo had always been the sibling he'd never had and the two had shared everything. Yet after Duo had disappeared, he'd stopped talking to people. Only years later, when he'd finally met Trowa, did he begin to open up again. And then Trowa had disappeared…  
  
His life seemed to be an endless cycle of opening up to people, watching them disappear, then shutting himself off from the world all over again. And here he was once again, debating opening up to someone. Still, he knew he couldn't stay hidden forever, and there certainly was something to be said about trying and trying again, because eventually he had to find a person who would stay and listen.  
  
"He disappeared nearly five years ago. The police said he was kidnapped… but I haven't seen him since." He let his eyes drift across the room to where the painting of Trowa and Heero's mother was. "They never found any trace of him and eventually his case got put on the back burner, buried somewhere in a department file drawer with the rest of the cases that never pan out."  
  
Heero frowned. "I'm sorry."  
  
"Even though we were cousins, he was like a brother to me. We did everything together until he disappeared. You painted him exactly as far as I can tell. In fact the boy you painted looks exactly like how I would have imagined him to look today. We were practically the same age and the relationship we had was much like how Trowa always described you and him. The best of friends, possibly closer than siblings."  
  
Heero nodded from where he sat and the two just remained there for a while, silent. Heero seemed not sure what to say and Quatre was busy gathering up his courage on one other small thing. Taking a slow breath to calm himself, he glanced away.   
  
"I did see him, once." He said softly. Then his face cracked a smile and he gave a light chuckle. "To anyone else this would sound insane."  
  
A smirk crossed Heero's face. "Who am I to judge? I see a missing boy in my dreams."  
  
Quatre nodded. "I did see him once," he repeated. "The night I found out what had happened to Trowa I saw him in my dreams. He was exactly how I remembered him and just for that one night he held me and let me cry until the morning. But when the dream faded and I woke up that morning he was gone, and I haven't seen him since. He may be missing but… but I think he's still alive. And your dreams kind of prove it. What are they like?"  
  
Heero leaned back on the bed and frowned in thought. "They always start the same; with me rushing over a long distance, like I'm caught in a stream and being pulled by the current. Then there's this flash of white and then I'm dropped into the painting. I can never get very close to him. He can't talk. And they only last for seconds at a time, rarely more then a minute, before I'm pushed out by this red light. Only once I've seen him outside of the dream, in a mirror in an art classroom."  
  
Quatre frowned at that one and brought a hand to his chin in a thoughtful look. "I wonder why he showed up in the mirror. What were you doing at the time?"  
  
"I went into the art classroom to look at other people's paintings and I happened to be thinking of him because one of the paintings reminded me of the dream. Then he showed up in the mirror as my reflection."  
  
"That's odd."  
  
Silence reigned once again as the two boys sat there, trying to place the pieces together for something more concrete. Below them the house was silent as well, until they heard the sound of the front door opening and someone stumbling in. Both boys looked toward Heero's door and the stairs.  
  
"Heero? You home?" Odin's voice called out.  
  
"My dad, I must have left some of the lights on downstairs."  
  
Those words seemed to break the spell around them and Quatre gave a slight nod. Standing up off the bed, he smoothed out his clothes and glanced back to Heero. "I should get home before my father worries."  
  
Heero tilted his head and followed him down the stairs. "Your father? Your mother doesn't worry?"  
  
Quatre chuckled. "Nope. She always knows where I am."  
  
The two arrived down stairs and Heero greeted his father then saw Quatre off, who still had time to catch the last city bus back to his house before they stopped their run. Quatre stepped on to the bus and watched the doors closing behind him and Heero's house fade into the distance.  
  
Turning in his seat to look out the windows behind him, a small smirk crossed his face. If nothing else then tonight proved that Duo was alive. This time, he planned to keep up the search. This time, he wasn't going to give up because of hopelessness. First thing tomorrow, after he got a full night's rest, he planned to start searching again. Already he was planning what paths to look through, who to call and where to check again.  
  
By the time he arrived home he already had a plan of action. In fact he almost wanted to skip the whole sleeping part and jump right into the search. But tired people made careless mistakes, and this time he wasn't about to miss anything. He would find Duo this time, with Heero's help. This time, he wouldn't stop until his cousin was found.  
  
**  
  
The next day, Catherine stepped out of her classroom to a very surprising sight. Blinking, she just stood there for a moment, then she ran up to him with a bright smile.   
  
"Heero! I didn't expect to see you here today."  
  
There was a world of difference between this Heero and the one she'd talked to yesterday. With one look, she could already tell that he was doing better. For one thing he'd taken the time to put on newer clothes that weren't wrinkled and his hair showed a bit more order then it usually did - if one could possibly call his hair ordered that is. And the fact that he actually turned and smiled at her also spoke a world of change. She came up to walk next to him and smirked.  
  
"So, what dragged you out of bed?" She joked.  
  
"I had to make up for the final I missed yesterday. I think I impressed the professor by turning it in so early. She wasn't expecting it until next week. But now all mine are out of the way." He turned to her. "Yours?"  
  
Catherine shook her head and tried to look dramatic. "Two more of the blasted things. How is it you always get so lucky? I mean, by some luck of the draw, you either don't end up with finals at all, or you just get the simple ones. I swear I'd kill for a multiple-guess final instead of all these essay-write-me-a-twenty-page-answer crap. Remind me again why I'm taking these classes?"  
  
Heero smirked. "Because you swore you'd never flip burgers."  
  
Catherine laughed. Yes, the old Heero she knew was definitely showing his head. "Oh yeah, that's right. You know, up until just now I was actually considering changing my major, on account of my summer job. How's yours?"  
  
Heero shook his head. "I get the same summer job every year, you know that."  
  
"Oh yes, the back of the museum." She stopped and placed her hands on her hips in an attempt to look intimidating. "Heero Yuy, I forbid you to become an old and lonely night owl like your father!"  
  
Heero laughed at that one. "You say that every summer."  
  
She blinked. "I do? Well, I still forbid it!" But this time she couldn't succeed in looking stern and just gave up, dropping into smiling at his back as he headed for the bus stop. Chuckling to herself, she raced up to him to catch up.  
  
"What about your summer job?" He asked as they waited with a small group of students.  
  
"I got one at the local hospital. Nothing huge really, just running papers back and forth and hushing the crying kids in the lobby."  
  
Heero tossed her a disbelieving look. "You said you were thinking of changing your major... to med? You know how much school that involves right? How many years?"  
  
"Yuy!" Taking her book, she playfully hit him in the arm. "I can make it through school you know. At least I show up for my finals. I may not get the grades you do, but I'm still a pretty descent student."  
  
"Sure you are," he said, the sarcasm thick enough to spread across bread.  
  
Rather than coming up with a good comeback, Catherine just settled for sticking out her tongue at him and crossing her arms to snub him. She received a soft chuckle for her efforts as the bus pulled into sight. The two stepped on to the bus and paid their quarters, taking their customary seats in the very back of the bus.  
  
They took the rest of the ride at the usual pace. Small bits of conversation popped up and disappeared with their responses, filled with small taunts and chuckling until they came to their stop. But to Catherine's surprise, when the bus stopped, Heero remained seated.  
  
"You not going home today?"  
  
He shook his head. "I'm taking the bus to Quatre's house, I need to talk to him about some stuff."  
  
"Wish I could go with you, but I need to study for my final tomorrow. So I guess I'll see you later then." Smiling, she walked toward the door of the bus and stepped part of the way out to follow the other riders who were filing out. But she paused and glanced back. "Glad to see you're feeling better, Heero."  
  
Heero flashed her a sincere smile and nodded.  
  
Satisfied with that, she stepped off the bus and headed home.   
  
**  
  
To Heero's surprise, when he reached Quatre's house, he was greeted by a servant and ushered up to Quatre's room. It was almost as if the blond was expecting him, but Heero hadn't told him about his plan to stop by. It struck him as strange but he decided not to think anything of it, because the two had kind of come to a silent agreement. Somewhere along the line last night, they'd both silently agreed to try and find Duo for their own reasons and for each other. So him stopping by Quatre's house after classes made perfect sense… right?   
  
When he reached Quatre's room he could only stare. Before the room had just been in a simple state of teenage cleanliness, but now it looked more like his father's office. Books and papers were laid out across the floor haphazardly, mixed in with lists and maps of the surrounding cities. Quatre sat at a newly hooked up computer at his desk, taking up all the space save for a small area now occupied by the picture of him and Trowa. The blond looked up from the computer at Heero and smiled a greeting.  
  
"Looks like someone didn't get any sleep last night," Heero murmured as he stepped over the papers toward the middle of the room. Moving carefully, he finally made his way to a clear spot where he could crouch next to the floor and just marvel at the mess.  
  
"No, I slept, but I woke up early." Quatre flashed a slightly embarrassed look. "I've kinda been at this all day."  
  
"I couldn't tell," Heero responded dryly. "I guess home-schooling does have its advantages. But what is all this for?"  
  
Quatre turned around in his chair to face Heero. "Mostly stuff I kept in storage. When Duo disappeared and they stopped looking I initiated my own search. I've gained quite a good number of connections thanks to my father's company and these are what's left from my previous search. After last night and some sleep I went to where I'd kept everything and I've been working on it since then. Following up old leads, double and triple checking the old places I'd looked and who I'd talked to. I figured this would be better then starting over again from scratch. I didn't want to miss anything."  
  
"I doubt you've missed anything." Heero picked up one of the lists and found it to be about three pages of phone numbers with neatly written names and addresses to go along with them. He just blinked and shook his head, putting the paper back down and just marveling at all the information laid out before him. "Put you in an office and you'd probably be able to make a living out of this," he murmured softly.  
  
"Hardly. Remember, even with all this I haven't been able to find anything."  
  
Heero frowned and sat back, but first he moved the large map behind him to make room, and began to ponder. Where was the best place to start with all this? Frowning in thought, he remembered the many nights he'd seen his father in his office at home with much this same set up. His office was always overrun with papers and maps back when he used to teach classes at the college. Part of his job had been to plan out scenarios for his students where he would research a place, present them with the information and see what they thought could be found there on a dig. A significant amount of work always went into his scenarios and he'd always told Heero that it made up for the fact that he couldn't be out in the field anymore thanks to his job requirements.   
  
Could he structure this search like he'd seen his father structure those scenarios? Would it work the same? Despite the fact that they were looking for a person and not a place where there could be artifacts, the principles should still be the same, right?  
  
Heero reached over and picked up the phone list again, flipping through it silently as Quatre watched. Reaching the back page he scanned it and stopped at a name. Raymond Maxwell.   
  
"Is this Duo's father?"  
  
Quatre took the phone numbers list and glanced down. He grimaced slightly. "Yeah."  
  
"I'd say our best guess is to start from the beginning. You've got a lot of stuff here and we'll probably get lost in it. Your best bet is to start from the primary sources… the people who knew him. Talk to them first, then branch out to town wide services, to city, to county and so on. If we start small and broaden the search we should cover the ground more effectively."  
  
Quatre just sat there and blinked at Heero for a moment.   
  
Heero cast him a questioning look.  
  
"You sound like you've done this before." The blond said softly.  
  
Heero chuckled softly at that. "No. But my dad used to work a lot with archaeology majors at the college. I know we're searching for a real person here and not some lost civilization, but I thought if we used the same idea… Starting small and widening the search seems like the easiest way to go about things with the lowest chance of error."  
  
"I agree." Quatre said with a nod. "As much as I hate to call him, this is the best idea." Quatre took the list and stepped out of the chair. "The phone's downstairs."  
  
Both he and Heero left the bedroom and headed down the stairs.  
  
Heero soon found himself in what he guessed was the living room of the house. Or perhaps it was the dining room due to the large table tucked in the corner. The room was large enough that it could easily have been both the living room and the dining room, and that's finally what Heero decided it was. Tasteful decorations, much like the rest of the house, dotted the walls. A small painted chain of ivy had been added to the walls, curling around the doorframes and windowsills. He wasn't surprised to find the same design echoed on the perfect white of the seats and near the edge of the sheer curtains.  
  
Even the phone matched the exact color of green, so perfectly shaded that it had to have been customized. Heero was almost afraid to sit down at one of the chairs because nothing in this house, save for Quatre's room, looked lived in. The whole house looked more like a show room then a home. It took him a few minutes to get used to the fact that those chairs were actually sat in before he could sit down. Quatre leaning against the ornate table that held the phone helped too. It made Heero feel silly to be tiptoeing about when Quatre seemed perfectly comfortable.  
  
Quatre picked up the phone and dialed the number, taking a deep breath as Heero heard the rings. The blond hesitated a moment before hitting the button for speakerphone and hanging up the receiver. He glanced once at Heero and swallowed, showing that he was obviously nervous about this phone call. Heero frowned; why would Quatre be nervous about calling his uncle?  
  
The phone clicked and Heero listened to someone pick up the other end. The greeting was completely skipped and Heero was quite shocked to hear the voice on the other end.  
  
"I have nothing to say to you," came a thick voice.   
  
Quatre's expression fell just slightly before he seemed to gather up his courage and he set his face in a determined expression. "Hello to you too, uncle."  
  
"Hmph, I have nothing to say to any of you Winners, be it you or your father. Good day, Quatre."  
  
"You hang up this phone and I promise you'll find me knocking at your door in less then an hour. And you know I'm telling the truth." Quatre said forcefully.  
  
Heero could practically hear the man wince over the line as he grunted angrily.   
  
The older man grumbled for a while then finally seemed to admit a slight defeat. "What do you want?" He asked, quieter this time.  
  
"I want to know about Duo."  
  
Something crashed hard on the other end of the line and this time the man was yelling in the phone. "Do you have no shame?! First you take my wife from me and now you come to rub in the fact that he's gone as well? I don't care how close of friends you were with him, cousin or not! You have no right to even call me after all the things your family did!"  
  
Quatre responded with a strong voice of his own, leaning closer to the speaker on the phone. "I'm trying to help you find him, I'm certainly not trying to take Duo away from you."  
  
"Find him? Ha! We went through this five years ago and what good did it do you?! He's gone, and it's all your fault. So fuck off Quatre Raberba Winner, you and your entire fucking family. Just rot and die, and leave me to mourn their deaths in peace!"   
  
With those harsh words the phone was slammed against the table so hard it caused Heero to jump in his seat while Quatre sighed and leaned back against the wall, holding his head in one hand. Reaching over numbly, he hit the button that shut the phone off.  
  
Heero frowned from where he sat, watching both Quatre and the phone. It was several minutes before he gained the courage to speak or break Quatre away from whatever thoughts he was having.  
  
"Quatre, I…"  
  
The blond shook his head. "Don't apologize, it's not your fault. I'm sorry you had to hear that."  
  
"Can I ask… what was that all about?"  
  
Quatre frowned and ran his hand through his hair in a nervous motion.   
  
"Never mind, it's not my business."  
  
"No," Quatre said quietly. "No, it is. Or at least it is now. If you're going to help me look for my cousin then you need to know the whole story around him and my family. It would at least make things a little easier to understand."  
  
Heero nodded slowly.  
  
"To simply explain things, my family has a long history of psychics. Laugh all you want, but it's the honest truth. Most of the women in the family have some related talent that shows up at the teenage years while only a few of the males seem to have it. The pattern follows a recessive gene of sorts, but we haven't really bothered with trying to figure it out scientifically since most experts laugh us out of the offices."   
  
Quatre paused to gauge Heero's response, but Heero merely nodded, indicating he wanted Quatre to continue. The blond stayed quiet for a moment, as if he were waiting for Heero to burst out laughing at him. Only when he seemed to believe this wouldn't happen did he continue.  
  
"My mother has it. And so do I, but only as of recently. Mine's very minor, mostly centering on telling when people are lying and sensing small things before they happen. It's nothing too huge and most of the time it's limited to being able to tell who is calling or who is at the door before they are answered."  
  
Heero nodded as he remembered the first day he'd met Quatre. That perfectly explained how the boy had known he was at the door and who he was. The whole explanation of knowing Heero from Trowa's descriptions, now that Heero thought about it, was a little too farfetched. Especially since Trowa wasn't the talkative type.  
  
"Well, Duo was the exception. As far back as I remember, he was always popping up with odd little talents and this strange habit of knowing things before they happened. He was always doing strange things, like guessing events. The one I remember the most is about a week before he disappeared. He did a little trick with a bowl of water and told me to ask it a question. I asked it about my friends in the future and he answered in a strange voice like he was in a trance. At the time it really scared me… but it all came true."  
  
"Is that why he was so mad at you? Because of the… talent that Duo inherited from your family?"  
  
Quatre nodded. "He blames us for everything. His wife, my aunt, died not too long after Duo was born. She was too weak after the pregnancy and just faded away after that. Despite the powers that Duo had, his father loved him for it. And he was civil with my family most of the time. Then Duo disappeared and he shut himself off from our family. He used the money from his wife's death to move farther away and then completely cut himself off from us. He didn't even collect on Duo's share of our money; he just lets it sit in the bank. I feel for him, really, but I just wish he'd be a little more cooperative. Or at least not hate us so much."  
  
Heero nodded slowly, turning over this new information in his mind. "So… you think that when I'm dreaming I'm talking to the actual Duo?"  
  
"Yes. As strange as that sounds." Quatre frowned slightly. "You don't believe me, do you?"  
  
"No, actually I do. It would make sense, given the circumstances."  
  
At those words Quatre's entire face seemed to light up. Heero took that to mean that no one had ever really believed the boy before and somehow he couldn't help but return the smile.  
  
"Thanks Heero, I mean it."  
  
"Is there any way I can help you with this? You seem to have all the bases covered."  
  
Quatre smirked. "Actually, I have an idea." Turning, he led Heero across the room to where a thick book was laid out on the table. "Take this home with you tonight."  
  
Heero reached down and turned the first page. "A photo album?"  
  
Quatre nodded. "You said he appeared in the mirror when you were thinking of him. I think, maybe, this might help. I'm sure you'll see him in your dreams tonight, because that pattern hasn't changed yet. But maybe the photos will trigger something else."  
  
"Well, it's worth a try."  
  
"I have to warn you though, trying to trigger stuff like this can have strange affects. I don't know if it will make any difference, but when it's been tried before it's been pretty unpredictable."  
  
Heero frowned at that but quickly pushed the frown away. "I'm going to help you find him. What's the big deal if we just add a little more weirdness on the side?" 


	8. chapter 7

Chapter 7  
  
Footsteps moved up the stairs and Heero rolled over in his bed, turning away from the door. He heard his door squeak open and someone step into the room, but he didn't move. He didn't want to leave his warm bed, not any more. Classes were over and he'd just woken up from the latest dream with the boy. He'd been so close to learning more, he was sure of it. Just a few more minutes with him before that red light came and he could have learned something important! He was so sure! Keeping his eyes closed, he willed his body to fall back asleep, convinced that if he drifted off he might actually be able to end up in that dream again. He would fall back asleep… He would dream again…  
  
"Heero."  
  
Heero groaned softly and shifted farther under the covers.  
  
"Heero, get up." Came the more insistent voice.  
  
"Go away," Heero murmured venomously. Classes were over; he was allowed to sleep in now, wasn't he?  
  
The voice didn't respond this time. Instead there was a sudden cold draft and Heero gave a very small cry of surprise as his thick and comfy quilt disappeared. Sitting up quickly, he fixed his father with one of his worst death glares… which lost its effectiveness as he gave a small yawn.  
  
Odin Yuy smirked and chuckled.  
  
"Let me sleep." Heero mumbled, dropping back on the bed and turning away from his father.  
  
"Well, if you say so." Odin threw the quilt back so it landed on top of Heero and muffled out most bits of sound from the room. Turning toward the door, he gave a shrug. "But you might want to get up if you still want a job for the summer. Being late on your first day isn't a very good impression." And with those words Odin closed the door behind him.  
  
Heero lay in the bed, snuggled tightly under the quilt for a moment, his father's muffled words running through his sleep-laced mind. What in the world was his father mumbling about? Job? What job?  
  
Heero's eyes snapped open and he threw the quilt back until he was able to sit up and rubbed his eyes. Glancing to his bedside table, he noted the time and realized he wasn't late at all; in fact he was right on time. Sighing softly to himself, he finally admitted defeat and gave up on the idea of getting any more sleep. Tumbling out of bed, he sleepily made his way for the shower.  
  
Odin Yuy had worked at the local museum nearly all his life. Once upon a time he'd actually tried to teach a few classes at the local college that Heero now attended, but that hadn't gone as well as he'd hoped. In the end everyone seemed to admit that Odin just wasn't a very social creature. He barely talked to his co-workers and he certainly wasn't the type to deal with an auditorium full of sleeping college students. Like his son, he was more of a listener and rememberer than a talker. So he'd retained his job at the museum ever since.  
  
Seemingly following in his father's footsteps, Heero also worked at the museum during the summer. His full time temporary summer job there consisted of all the small menial tasks that none of the other workers really wanted to do. His job description was non-existent really and could be summed up best in a small phrase: an extra set of hands and legs. Whenever someone needed something done that they really didn't want to do themselves, it became part of Heero's job.  
  
It wasn't the type of job he really enjoyed, but rather it was simply something to fill his summer. Granted, he did enjoyed the variety of jobs and there was never a shortage of things for him to help take care of, but it wasn't the type of job he planned on making his living out of. For the time being it was perfect, but he really had no intentions of staying at the museum as a life long endeavor.  
  
Heero stepped down the stairs, straightening his shirt and tucking it into his black jeans. There wasn't a uniform for the workers, especially not for people like his father who rarely saw anything more living than a skeleton, much less a living visitor. But since Heero's job was so diverse, the management had provided him with a dark green polo shirt holding the museum's logo over the right pocket. Heero ended up looking much more dressed up then his father who normally wore old faded jeans and a button up shirt with some faded pattern, but it didn't matter really. Oddly, it did spark comments throughout their coworkers about who was the more grown-up of the two, bringing Odin no end of amusement.  
  
"You all ready for the hard work of lifting and unpacking?" Odin asked as his son stepped into the kitchen.  
  
Heero raised an eyebrow in question as he dug through the cupboard for a breakfast bar, having decided to skip a real breakfast that morning.  
  
"I talked with Mrs. Markus today and it turns out that you've been assigned to help them set up the new children's exhibit in the south wing. Set up starts today, so you'll probably end up doing a good amount of hauling."  
  
Heero nodded and leaned against the counter. "You mean you were actually in the office during normal enough hours to talk to the museum manager?" He asked.  
  
Odin threw his son a look and found him smirking. "Ha ha, very funny. Contrary to popular belief, I do talk with my co-workers occasionally."  
  
"Sure you do, dad."  
  
The ride to the museum was very uneventful. Odin drove while his son sat in the front passenger seat staring out the window as the buildings and streetlights passed by. Watching the green lawns and neatly washed cars pass by, Heero felt a small bit of contentment. Something about watching things pass by so quickly out the window made him feel calm. He wasn't sure why and by the time they reached the museum, he'd figured it wasn't worth worrying about. After all, he'd have plenty of time to ponder the meanings of life while he was hauling boxes back and forth. Hauling, lifting and unpacking never required much brainwork, no matter how fragile the packages were.  
  
**  
  
Heero took a deep breath and grunted quietly as he pulled the last of the large wooden crates off the cart. Setting down the box, he gave a wave to the other volunteer driving the forklift, signaling that that was all he needed. The older man nodded and threw the noisy machine into reverse, disappearing down the blocked off hallway. Meanwhile, Heero picked up the box one last time and carried to where he'd stacked the others and sat down on top of it for a rest.  
  
Every box around him bore the name of the museum; proudly stating it in block capitalized letters. The Museum of Natural Resources and Science. No, that wasn't right. Only the larger of the wooded crates and boxes bore the full words, all the others were stamped with the letters MNRS and some serial number that made sense to an unnamed warehouse worker. It wasn't Heero's job to care about what the serial numbers meant. Grabbing his clipboard, he flipped it to the back page and began marking off each of the boxes and crates, making sure he'd received the correct ones.  
  
Due to the fact that his finals had finished in the middle of the week and most of the other students were still taking classes, he was the only volunteer working in the area at the moment. The museum considered the children's wing to be of little importance when other things entered the list of things to do, so this section was given very low priority and only one worker for the next few days. Heero didn't mind it much at all since he preferred to work by himself, and he had a feeling that the museum manager, Iria Markus, knew that. She also probably knew that Heero would get the job done much faster on his own when he was allowed to set his own pace.  
  
The children's wing was setting up its newest exhibit centering on the workings of the mind over the world and how other cultures had viewed it over the centuries. Being that it was a children's exhibit it involved many strange things, like a large replica of a brain that children could crawl through, complete with tags marking which parts of the brain controlled what. Most of the larger parts like that were already set up, or scheduled to be set up by the more 'hauling' oriented workers later that week. Heero was simply left with large boxes of props that filled up the smaller places. Paintings, frames and information stations all had to be set up and that would take up the bulk of his week.  
  
Finishing off his small checklist, he flipped back to the front of the clipboard which told him where all the pieces were to be placed. Grabbing a small crow bar, he began to carefully open the small wooden crates.   
  
Opening the crate, he set the top aside to reveal what looked like shredded scrap paper, small and neatly printed letters covering the long strips. Reaching in, he began rummaging around for the contents.  
  
Strangely enough, he'd spent a good portion of his life doing things like this. Even before he'd been old enough to legally work for the museum, he'd always come in with his father and helped in small ways. It'd been his father's idea of baby sitting when he was younger, after his mother died. His father had always insisted that paying for someone to watch him was too much of a hassle given his strange hours, and what better place for a kid to hang out but a museum? Thanks to that, Heero's childhood memories were filled with images of huge empty hallways, dark displays and strange objects on shelves or behind protective glass. One might think that such things would give a child the creeps, but Heero had always enjoyed it.   
  
Now, opening the crate and digging through it, he allowed himself to drift back into some of those memories. Wandering down huge, empty hallways, looking at replicas of native people in hunting poses facing off mega-fauna long extinct. Large storage rooms filled with more books and pieces of 'junk' than he could have imagined at a thousand thrift stores. Crowds upon crowds of people passing by the doors to the back office areas as Heero watched through the slightly ajar door. Reaching up to take a small box from a shelf and watching something fall from beside it, clattering to the floor and rolling out of the room…  
  
Heero blinked and pulled back, a strange feeling surrounding him.  
  
Consciously, he tried to repeat that memory that had just flashed through his mind but he couldn't; it was gone. How strange. It was as if letting himself reminisce while digging through a wooden crate had reminded him of something from the past…  
  
Déjà vu?  
  
Frowning to himself, he leaned forward to dig through the box again, trying to stir up the memory once more, but it didn't seem to work that way. Frowning even more, he decided it was time to take a break. A look at the clock on the wall told him it was well past noon, but he didn't feel like eating lunch. Instead he opted to explore the rest of the exhibit he'd been assigned to work on.   
  
Standing up, he brushed off his jeans and walked down one of the halls, not even bothering to flip on any of the lights. Around him the hallway was lined with various historical pictures of great thinkers, the generic ones that everyone heard of. Heero walked a little faster, intent on passing all the people to get to the more interesting stuff, and soon found himself in a larger room set up like a compass. On the floor, a huge ornate compass was painted and all around him displays were set up to reflect different area around the world. He scanned over a set up depicting Native Americans sitting around a campfire telling stories, to a convent style classroom, complete with a monk teaching a small group of boys. Beyond that was a temple set up of Buddhist monks and turning farther 'south' he found a display set up like a pyramid cut down the center and two small boys listening to an older man dressed in white robes.   
  
Heero tilted his head a bit to the side and stepped toward the display until he could see the entire diorama. Upon closer inspection, he found it was more of a temple then a pyramid and the two boys appeared to be young Egyptian royalty thanks to their many ornaments and perfect posture. The man stood in a position that reminded Heero of any one of the many professors he'd had at the college. The man was obviously attempting to teach the boys something.  
  
But beyond the life size models was something that really interested Heero. Behind them was a wall mural surrounded by hieroglyphics he couldn't read. The wall depicted a man in rich clothing sleeping on a bed, showing his profile as most Egyptian wall murals did, while a flurry of images surrounded and seemed to swirl toward his head. The smaller images were of birds, animals, gods, people, crops, buildings and numerous other things. It took a moment, but Heero finally realized what the picture was depicting.   
  
The man was dreaming.  
  
"I wonder, does it really look like that when our eyes are closed and we're lying in bed?"  
  
Heero turned in surprise to find Quatre standing behind him, an innocent smile on his face. At first he didn't believe that the blond boy was actually standing behind him and all he could do was stare in bewilderment. The last thing he expected was to find someone in the room with him.  
  
"I mean think about it," Quatre continued, stepping closer. "I can see how walking on someone tossing and turning in bed might cause one to think that a host of images was haunting them. It must have been a creepy thing to see when they didn't know what was going on."  
  
Heero recovered from his shock and shook his head. "I think they knew, just had a different way of interpreting the information then we do."  
  
Quatre grinned. "Spoken like a true scientist. And you're probably right."  
  
"What are you doing here? Visitors aren't allowed to just walk into exhibits while they are in set up."  
  
The blond flashed an innocent look. "I'm not a visitor. Iria is my aunt."  
  
Heero blinked in surprise. "Your aunt is the museum manager?"  
  
He chuckled softly. "And her husband, my uncle, owns it. That's the only reason why it's owned by Markus and not Winner. Different last names, same family."  
  
"Does your family own everything in this town?" Heero asked, stepping away from the display.   
  
Quatre responded with a slightly embarrassed look. "Just about."  
  
Heero chuckled softly and the two turned away from the exhibit, heading back toward where the boxes awaited unpacking. "So did you find anything?" Heero asked. He didn't need to make the sentence any clearer because both knew exactly what he was talking about. He was asking if Quatre had found anymore information about Duo.  
  
The blond shook his head. "No, the results are turning out to be just the same as last time I looked. Hardly anything new this time, and just a few more annoyed people that I just decided to call them again out of the blue." He shrugged lightly. "What about you? Did the photo album help any?"  
  
"Nothing changed in the dreams, least not that I can tell." They entered the main room and Heero glanced at the crates with a slight frown. He really didn't want to start unpacking them now, he wanted to talk more with Quatre in the hopes that they might find something out. So instead of sitting down to unpack, he picked up the clipboard and double-checked the paperwork. "Want to come with me to drop this off?"  
  
"Sure!"  
  
The two left the children's wing and headed for the back work area of the museum where Heero's father was. Despite the fact that Heero wasn't doing a job for his dad at the moment, he still turned in all the paperwork to his father. This way, Odin could double check it and save museum management the extra steps of trying to find Heero and correct his mistakes. Not that he made any more then once, but it was still a nice precaution.  
  
Both boys entered the back work area and Heero led them past the glass and shelf divided cubicles. Compared to what normal office space usually looked like, these desks were decidedly more claustrophobic. Books and papers covered nearly every flat space, with smaller objects, models and subjects of study scattered in between. If the main parts of the museum showed examples of the natural world, then the back rooms showed the natural habitat of the obsessed scientist. True, not everyone in the back rooms was as unsociable and obsessive as his father, but many came quite close, as their desks attested.  
  
Quatre glanced around them with wide eyes, stopping many times to lean in closer to see something, then he would rush to catch up with Heero again. By the time they reached Odin Lowe-Yuy's office, Heero had a small smirk on his face. Quatre noticed.  
  
"What? So sue me! I haven't been in the back rooms before."  
  
Heero just smirked more and shook his head, knocking lightly on the doorframe to his father's office. Odin didn't look up but merely grunted them permission to enter. Heero walked over and placed the clipboard on the desk, directly on top of his father's current project, knowing that was the only way to really get his attention.  
  
Odin looked up and blinked slightly, like he was coming out of a trance, and took the clipboard in his hands. Leaning back in his chair, he flipped through the papers and gave a nod.   
  
"Looks like you covered everything. How goes the unpack- hello." Odin's sentence shifted course drastically and a smile crossed his face as he noticed someone else was in the room aside from Heero. "Who's this?"  
  
"Quatre Winner," Quatre said, offering his hand and a bright smile.   
  
Odin's eyes widened significantly and he placed his feet firmly on the floor, perhaps to make sure he didn't fall out of his chair from shock. "Winner?" He repeated in a thinner voice.  
  
Quatre smiled brightly and nodded. "Don't worry, I'm not here for any real reason. Just stopped in to say hi to Heero and look around."  
  
Odin blinked a few times then seemed to completely recover. Turning, he frowned at his son and spoke to Heero as if Quatre were no longer in the room, completely to the blonde's amusement.   
  
"Why didn't you tell me you were friends with Winner's son?" Odin demanded in a quieter voice.  
  
Heero shrugged. "Never came up in conversation."  
  
Odin rolled his eyes and turned back to Quatre, smiling back at him this time. "Do you attend the same classes?"  
  
Quatre shook his head. "I was a friend of Trowa's."  
  
Odin's mouth opened to respond but somewhere along the line he lost the words and nothing came out. Instead, his mouth remained in an 'o' shape for a little too long as he struggled with what to say. Heero gave a soft sigh and decided to save him before he made a fool of himself.  
  
"Well, I should head back to where I was working. Want to walk with me, Quatre?"  
  
"Sure, I can even help a bit if you want, I don't mind. It probably gets lonely in that wing all by yourself."  
  
Seeing that the two boys were now heading out of the room, Odin tossed them a farewell and turned back to his work. In a matter of moments he was back in his own little world, ruffling through paperwork and typing stuff into his computer as he researched whatever his current project was. Heero couldn't help but smile, his father's attention span worked much like a light switch, one thing at a time and that thing had his full attention. It was amusing, really.  
  
The two started back for the hallway when Heero thought he heard a voice. Turing slightly he glanced toward an older storage closet which had its door slightly ajar. Stepping toward the door, he held his breath, watching quietly.  
  
He wasn't sure why, but something about that room struck him as odd, but familiar. He knew he'd been in it millions of times before, but something about it this one time…  
  
Heero forgot about Quatre and walked toward the room.  
  
As he neared the door, there was a distinct sound of something crashing to the ground and tape snapping. A young voice cursed softly, sounding incredibly familiar, and there was a clicking sound as something rolled out of the room and through the door, out to the main part of the museum. Heero watched as a fist sized red stone rolled across the floor and out of sight.  
  
Then he froze completely as he saw a young boy come running out of the room, racing after the stone.  
  
It was…  
  
Him!? 


	9. chapter 8

Chapter 8  
  
Heero gave a cry of surprise as the box tumbled from his grip. He hadn't meant to knock it from the shelf, he'd only meant to reach the stack of papers behind it. But as luck, or fate, would have it, his arms just weren't long enough. Flailing his arms in the attempt to reach the papers, he'd knocked the small box from the shelf and now all he could do was watch, in slow motion, as the box fell and hit the ground.  
  
Hitting the ground, it landed on a corner and popped open, revealing the contents inside. He watched in horror as the large red jewel inside, barely even large as his young fist, popped out of the box and began rolling out of the room.  
  
In a second, Heero snapped out of his state of shock and gave chase. His father would kill him if he lost something from this room, not to mention that the museum manager would never allow him in the back rooms again. His only chance was to chase after it and hopefully catch it before anyone noticed. So with that in mind, young Heero Yuy chased after the rock, following it into the hallway, looking much the same way as a child chasing a small bouncy ball. Except this ball didn't bounce, and it certainly wasn't something cheep enough to be bought at the local convenience store.  
  
The stone rolled out into the hallway, meeting right up with a small platform holding some part of the current exhibit. Heero breathed a sigh of relief from the doorway as he watched it stop, knowing that he wouldn't have to chase it far. But then something strange happened.  
  
It just so happened that at that exact time two boys about Heero's age were passing through that section of the museum, and one of them happened to notice the stone. Not even pausing to think about it, the slightly taller of the two boys knelt down and picked up the stone, gently turning it over in his hands.  
  
"Wow!" said the blond who stood next to him. "What do you think it is, Duo?"  
  
"It's not a ruby," the boy said as he turned it over in his hands. Then suddenly he turned to face Heero, his long braid swinging around to slap over his opposite shoulder at the sudden movement. He flashed Heero a bight smile. "This is yours, isn't it?"  
  
Heero nodded numbly, stepping up to him. "I dropped it." He said quietly.  
  
Duo's deep violet eyes met Heero's and for a moment they just stared at each other. "It says it wants to stay with me," Duo whispered softly.  
  
Heero wasn't sure what to say to that one, had the boy actually meant that the stone was talking to him? That didn't make sense! And it also didn't matter. "It belongs to the museum," Heero responded in an equally quiet voice.  
  
Duo glanced down at the stone in his hands, then slowly nodded. Smiling softly at Heero once more he extended his hand toward him, offering the stone.  
  
Heero reached for it, to take it from Duo's hand.  
  
In that moment, their young fingers touched and Heero felt a small shiver move down his spine. He could have sworn the stone flashed between their hands, giving off a light bright enough to illuminate the entire room. And in the back of his mind he heard Duo's voice whisper softly.   
  
'Don't forget me, Heero.'  
  
Then it was all gone, and the stone was in Heero's hand. Duo smirked at him and stepped back, turning to face his bewildered blond companion.  
  
"Let's go look at the next exhibit, eh Quat?"  
  
The blonde's eyes flickered between the two in confusion and he blinked. But then he seemed to blink it away and nodded, smiling happily. The two turned to leave the hall, leaving Heero to stand there, just watching them. As they walked away the blonde turned back to Heero and waved good-bye, then they stepped out of sight.  
  
Only then did Heero wonder how the boy had seemed to know his name.  
  
**  
  
Heero watched in amazement as that same childhood scene was enacted right in front of him by the strange wispy apparitions. He could easily see the three boys standing in the exhibit hall, speaking to each other and holding the roughly cut red stone. How strange that it looked so small to him now, but he'd been much younger then.  
  
As soon as the two boys had left the exhibit hall he watched the younger version of himself turn and fade into nothing, the stone along with him. In the end Heero was left standing in that same doorway, just watching silently as the memory faded. He had no idea how old the memory was, or why he hadn't thought of it until now. All he could do was judge by his younger self's age, guessing that it was nearly ten years ago. Taking a shaky step back he leaned against the doorframe and ran his hand through his hair, trying to calm down and think over things rationally.  
  
"What was that?" Whispered a soft voice behind him.  
  
Only then did Heero remember why he was in that area of the museum currently. And only then did he remember that Quatre was standing behind him. The blond was taking turns starring at him and the place where the illusion of memory had been. It took a second for Heero to realize something amazing.  
  
"You saw that?" Heero asked.  
  
The blond nodded. "And I remember it now too. Duo and I came to visit the museum that day, one of the few days that his father actually let him come to my side of town to play. I didn't even think of that memory until now. Was that other boy you?"  
  
Heero nodded numbly.  
  
Quatre stepped closer to him. "Have you ever had memories do that to you before? Become… solid and reenact themselves in your vision?" He seemed to stumble over the words slightly, as he struggled to put what they'd both seen into understandable terms.  
  
Heero shook his head. "No, never."  
  
"Hmm, very strange." Quatre stepped past Heero into the area where the three boys had been standing. He spent a few moments looking around, then he slowly turned back to Heero, a strange look in his eyes.   
  
"The stone," Heero whispered softly. His mind was slowly starting to connect all the things he'd seen. The feeling of déjà vu, the memory of the three of them meeting, him and Duo touching the stone… and the red light that pushed him out of all of those dreams.  
  
Heero's eyes widened in realization and Quatre gave a small nod.  
  
"Could be."  
  
**  
  
Hours later, after work, found Heero in the cramped attic of his house amidst boxes and deep piles of papers. He didn't care about the dust, and he certainly didn't care about the spider webs, as he made his way through a thick pile of notebooks piled on a small shelf near the back of the area.   
  
The attic was small, and nowhere near the size of Catherine's attic bedroom. Instead, this attic was meant purely for storage and in no way was it meant to be used as a living space. Now it had become a corridor of memories about the father who lived in the past. Hidden among locked and nailed boxes of his mother's things were his father's old teaching materials, notebooks and journals. It had only taken Heero a few minutes to realize just how much time his father took to journal, filling composition notebooks so quickly that they had to be labeled by the month they were started, if not the day. His current task would take him a good number of days… if not the next few years to accomplish.  
  
But now he knew exactly what he was looking for, and he had a pretty good idea of where to look. So he started with the journals centering on when he was about nine years old and was slowly skimming them moving forward in time.  
  
His father recorded everything… he had to have record of that stone somewhere. Maybe even its name and catalog number. Or at least a small tidbit about it. Something. Anything!  
  
Beyond him, hours after the sun had set, the attic door was swept open and a figure stepped up into the cramped space with him. Heero glanced up and rubbed his eyes to focus them, only to find Catherine sitting at the top of the stairs with a smirk on her face.  
  
"Tadaa!" She proclaimed in a singsong voice, but her tone dropped into a small amount of coughing from the dust, causing Heero to crack a smile and completely look away from the notebook in his lap.   
  
He chuckled softly.  
  
"Ha ha, very funny, Yuy. But you try breathing in this poor excuse for air."  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about, I've been up here for the last few hours reading, and the air hasn't bothered me one bit."  
  
Catherine made a face and moved across the floor to sit next to him, furiously fanning the air away from her nose with her hand. "What in the stars names would make you do such a silly thing? What are you reading anyway?" Reaching forward she took the notebook from Heero and squinted in the weak, dust filled light. "Your father's journals?"  
  
Heero nodded.  
  
"You know, Heero, if you're going through this heavy of textbook withdrawal after the end of classes all you had to do was tell me and I would have given you my textbooks to read."  
  
Heero rolled his eyes and took the notebook back, paging through it for where he'd left off. "I'm looking for something."  
  
"I couldn't tell," she said, deep in sarcasm. "So, should I leave you to be buried in your dust or do you want to know my good news?"  
  
"You're done with finals, aren't you?"  
  
Catherine made a sour face. "You, Mr. Heero Yuy, are no fun!"  
  
Heero smirked at her. "You going to help me look, or what?"  
  
She sighed softly and just shook her head. "You are, of course, assuming I have nothing better to do. How do you know I don't have some hot and wild date waiting for me down at your front door?"  
  
Heero said nothing, just kept watching her with an amused expression.  
  
After a very long moment she sighed and gave up pretending. "On one condition," she said, shaking her finger.  
  
Heero nodded slowly.  
  
"We move those to your room. Because I will not read in this light and I will not breathe this air, because I swear it's worse for my lungs then tear gas."  
  
Heero laughed and closed the notebook in his lap. "You've got a deal."  
  
**  
  
Catherine fell back on the bed and gave an exaggerated sigh. From his place on the floor Heero glanced up to his bed where she was now sprawled out, looking at him as her head hung upside down.  
  
"What's so important about this red stone anyway?" She asked.   
  
Hours had passed since Catherine had shown up and now it was nearly noon. That was quite an accomplishment when one thought about the fact that she'd shown up the night before and had stayed the night just to help him search. Both looked like they needed sleep and neither had really gotten any since they'd started looking. He hadn't even realized how hungry he was until Catherine had spoken to him. But now his stomach grumbled about how empty it was and both found themselves starring at Heero's stomach.  
  
Catherine smirked and rolled over on the bed so she was now lying on her stomach. "Your stomach makes a good argument, Heero."  
  
He frowned and set down the journal he was looking through, after using a scrap of paper to mark the page. "I suppose we really should eat something."  
  
"Great!" Catherine said, jumping off the bed. "Because I'm about to shrivel up and die if I don't get something. Race you to the kitchen, you slow poke!" With those words she was gone out the door.  
  
Heero chuckled to himself and stood up. Taking a moment to stretch out his slightly numb legs, he glanced around the room. They'd moved all the journals down with them, which now all lay out in various piles across his floor. Lucky for both of them it was now Saturday so neither had to worry about work. Still, even with all the reading, they'd found nothing. Heero was starting to think he'd grossly misjudged his age in the memory.  
  
He didn't even want to consider that his father might not have written anything down about the stone.  
  
Grabbing the journal he was currently reading he headed down the stairs to get something to eat. Maybe if he stopped and thought for a while he'd come up with a better way to approach this. Because if the journals turned out to have nothing then… then he had no idea what they would do.  
  
He was greeted at the door to the kitchen by a pillow in the face. Heero sputtered for a second and glanced from the pillow, now lying on the floor, to Catherine, who stood in the kitchen frowning at him.  
  
"When someone says 'race you to the kitchen' that usually means you race. Honestly, Heero, you need to lighten up a bit." She frowned a bit. "This stone thing has really got you tied up and stuff, doesn't it?"  
  
Heero blinked for a moment, trying to decide how much to tell her. All he'd really told her was the memory he had. He hadn't explained why the stone was important, hadn't even mentioned the dreams, Quatre or Duo. Now he wondered if he really should. How much of this would become even more complicated if Catherine was let in? How much was he even allowed to say about Duo?   
  
Still having another mind in on this might actually provide them with some new ideas.  
  
He frowned and set the notebook on the table. Walking over to the refrigerator, he opened it and rummaged around while she still leaned against the counter, waiting for an answer.  
  
"It's a… long story." Heero said after a moment.  
  
"Yeah, I figured."  
  
Heero glanced at her over his shoulder and tried once again to decide how much to tell her.  
  
She gave a small shrug and pulled herself up onto the counter, sitting there next to the stove. "Look, not that it really matters or anything. I mean I know you asked me to help and I agreed and you really have no reason to tell me why all of this is going on. But it might help if I knew a little bit more about stuff. A small childhood memory isn't much to go on." She paused for a moment and swung her legs, gently tapping the cupboard with her bare feet. "Did you ask your dad if he remembered the stone?"  
  
Heero nodded as he pulled the fixing of a few sandwiches out of the fridge. "He said he remembered it, but he wasn't sure when he'd come across it." Heero set out the last of the fixings and went hunting for bread and a knife.   
  
"What's the point of keeping all those journals if you don't remember where stuff is in them?"  
  
Heero shrugged. "I asked him the same thing. I believe his exact words were 'I wrote it down so I wouldn't have to remember.'(1)"  
  
Catherine snickered. "Yeah, that sounds like something your dad would say." Jumping off the counter she moved up next to him and began making her own sandwich as he worked on his.   
  
The two went about making their small meal in silence as both seemed to be considering what they'd read. Both were almost done making their sandwiches when there was a knock on the door. Heero glanced toward it just as Mimir decided to saunter into the room. He couldn't help but laugh as the cat walked over to the door and waited there with its tail swinging back and forth in anticipation. Leave it up to his cat to be hiding in the corner sleeping, only to show up when there was action at the door.  
  
"Coming," Heero called out, absentmindedly as he walked toward the door. In one practiced move he swept up the cat in his arms and turned the doorknob. The tabby didn't seem too pleased about her failed attempt to get outside, but she seemed to enjoy the sudden attention and decided to not jump out of his hands.  
  
The door opened to reveal Quatre, who smiled brightly at him. "Morning." The blond said.  
  
Heero smiled back and stepped back into the kitchen to let him in. From behind him he heard a knife drop on the counter. Heero glanced back to see Catherine fumble to catch it and blush for a split second, before she recovered and cast him a curious glance.  
  
Heero suddenly realized that she'd never met Quatre before.  
  
He shut the door and turned to the two. "Catherine, this is Quatre. Quatre, this is Catherine... Trowa's sister."  
  
Catherine's jaw dropped in surprise and this time she didn't even attempt to hide her surprise. Instead she just turned completely to face the blond boy and stared at him in shock.   
  
Quatre, on the other hand, smiled brightly at her and took a few steps forward. "I should have guessed. You two really do look a lot alike. It's nice to finally meet you."  
  
"Yes… I… oh!" Catherine's eyes widened and Heero could have sworn he saw a light flick on above her head. "You were Trowa's…"  
  
Quatre nodded.  
  
That seemed to break the spell and Catherine blushed furiously. "I am such an idiot!" She bit her lip and smiled at him. "I need to… uhh… yeah. Sorry." She flashed another nervous smile and grabbed her sandwich, turning and racing up the stairs to Heero's room. Both boys watched after her quietly until they head her footsteps stop in Heero's room. Heero gave Quatre a slightly confused look and let Mimir down to the floor, where she padded around for a moment, before stealing off with a small piece of turkey that had fallen to the floor.  
  
The blond smiled at Heero, looking a little embarrassed. "I guess I really surprised her. I should have called first, I didn't think you'd have company."  
  
"No, it's all right. She probably would have reacted the same way if you'd called and given us warning first. We're both running on very little sleep at the moment." Heero flashed an apologetic look. "Would you like a sandwich?"  
  
Quatre chuckled. "No, I think I'll pass. But I have an idea. I'll clean up your sandwich stuff if you go up and talk to her. I'll wait a few minutes to come up, so you can speak with her. I'm sure I really shocked her."  
  
Heero nodded. "Thanks."   
  
**  
  
Catherine dropped onto the edge of Heero's bed and frowned deeply at herself. Her cheeks still felt incredibly hot and red and she swore she was still blushing brightly from her own actions. How silly of her to have rushed out of the room like that. Silly and very rude.  
  
But she couldn't help it!  
  
She hadn't expected to see him, she hadn't expected to meet him. It was completely unexpected and now she found herself sitting on Heero's bed, wanting nothing more then to walk over and slam her head up against the wall for her own actions. How stupid!  
  
"Catherine?" Heero peeked into the room and watched her quietly, not moving toward her.  
  
"I made a real fool of myself," she murmured, hugging her knees and glaring at the floor.  
  
Heero stepped into the room. "Perfectly expectable. I felt really stupid when I went to speak to him for the first time too." He sat down next to her on the edge of the bed.  
  
Catherine smirked. "Somehow, I have a hard time picturing you stuttering."  
  
Heero smirked back. "It happens to everyone."  
  
She took a deep breath and smiled. "I can see why Trowa liked him. He is actually really cute, exactly the type I can picture my twin with. Except… I guess the fact that he's a boy hasn't really sunk in for me yet." She shrugged and kicked at a non-existent pebble on the floor. "And I'm just making a real fool of myself right now. He still here?"  
  
Heero nodded.  
  
"Well, don't make your guest wait down stairs, Heero. That's just rude!" She smiled reassuringly. "I'm fine. I promise not to trip over my own feet when he comes up here. Least I'll try not to."   
  
A few minutes later Quatre did come up to the room, carrying Heero's sandwich with him and the notebook Heero had left in the kitchen. Heero thanked him and took the sandwich as they all settled on the floor for a set of questions and explanations.   
  
"So, any luck?" Quatre asked, glancing at the piles of composition notebooks.  
  
"You know about all of this?" Catherine asked, finishing up what was left of her sandwich. He nodded and she glanced to Heero. "This has to do with Trowa then?"  
  
Heero shook his head without looking up from scanning the notebook in his lap.  
  
"Actually, it has to do with my missing cousin. I asked Heero if he would do me a huge favor in helping and he agreed." Quatre explained.  
  
"Okay, so what does a red stone have to do with your missing cousin?"   
  
This time Heero answered, marking his page with his finger as he closed the notebook. "In the memory I told you about, there were three boys. One was me, and the other two were Quatre and his cousin. I met them the day I chased the stone into the hallway, and just remembered that recently."  
  
She shook her head. "That still doesn't explain why we're searching for this stone. Unless it has something to do with his disappearance."  
  
Quatre frowned in thought. "It just might, actually."  
  
Catherine's eyes widened at that. "Oh!"   
  
The three sat there silently for a moment. Heero returned to scanning the journal in his lap while Quatre sat in thought. Catherine leaned back against the edge of the bed and frowned in thought herself.   
  
"You've probably already looked for him with the police and stuff," she said softly as she watched the ceiling above them.  
  
"Yes," Quatre said, even though she wasn't expecting an answer.  
  
"What did he look like?"  
  
Quatre shifted around a bit and pulled a photo out of his back pocket, handing it to Catherine. She looked down at it in surprise. In her hands she held a picture of two young boys next to a bicycle. A younger Quatre was sitting on the seat, while a boy about his age was holding the bike up and grinning with a smile that crossed his entire face and caused his eyes to squint shut. His face was covered with smudges of mud and his long braid was coming loose at the end. The picture was of two boys caught in the middle of playing on a wonderful summer day. And she knew there were similar pictures of her and Trowa in her own photo albums at home.  
  
"He'd be about my age now."  
  
Catherine blinked and turned the picture over to see if there was any writing on the back. "What did you say his name was?" She asked softly.  
  
Heero glanced up in question at the tone of her voice. It almost sounded like she knew something.  
  
"Duo Maxwell." Quatre said, echoing Heero's questioning look.  
  
"Hmm, must be something else then." Catherine shrugged to herself and handed the photo back.  
  
"What do you mean, something else?"  
  
Catherine shrugged again. "Well, where I work at the hospital, there's a boy about the age he would be now, looks just like him. But his name isn't Duo Maxwell, he's registered as Solo Raymond."  
  
Quatre's eyes widened and the photo slipped out of his hand to the floor. "Solo… Raymond?" He repeated in a breathy voice.  
  
She nodded.  
  
"Raymond is his father's name," Heero murmured.  
  
Quatre nodded slowly. "And Solo is Duo's father's middle name. You said he's at the hospital, Catherine, where is he?"  
  
"The Helen Maxwell Memorial Wing."  
  
All three stared at each other as the pieces fell together and a smile crossed Quatre's lips.  
  
"I should have known," the blond said, chuckling softly. "I never even guessed that he'd be in the hospital, under a fake name, in the same wing that his mother died in and that his father's money helped create. It all fits so perfectly, why didn't I see it before?"  
  
Heero turned to Catherine. "Catherine, can you…?"  
  
Catherine grinned. "Visiting hours are over, but I can get us in, if we hurry."  
  
Quatre and Heero nodded.  
  
They had found Duo.  
  
(1) Quote from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. I couldn't resist.  
  
** 


	10. chapter 9

Chapter 9  
  
The small group of three arrived at the hospital later that afternoon, just as the sun was beginning to set. The large hospital filled nearly an entire city block, thanks to the size of the town and the fact that it also served the surrounding communities. Other than that fact, there wasn't much else very interesting about it. It was simply a hospital, like any other.   
  
By the time they reached the building, Quatre and Heero felt like they were on some covert operation and an uneasy silence had settled over all three of them. Many unspoken assumptions swam through their heads and only now that they'd arrived at the hospital did they start to consider how much work would go into this. However, thanks to Catherine, they managed to make it through the lobby quite easily without any one asking questions.  
  
For simplicity's sake they all agreed that it would be easiest to have Catherine distract people while Heero and Quatre went to the room. So before they stepped into the lobby, Catherine gave them the room number, then went to work her magic on her new co-workers. All of them realized that this could very well cost her her job, but she'd jumped at the chance and Catherine was always the type to take a small adventure over a couple days' mundanity. Besides, she could always find another summer job.  
  
Quatre and Heero walked through the long hallways, pretending to know exactly where they were going. Lucky for them they found the hallways quite empty and only passed one doctor, who was too busy looking at her clipboard and flipping through papers to notice them. It was not hard at all to find the room that Solo Raymond reportedly occupied.  
  
The Helen Maxwell Memorial Wing was originally a maternity wing for the hospital. Least, that's what it had been when Helen Maxwell had actually occupied it. Sadly she'd checked into the hospital and never checked out again. Along with the psychic gene in Quatre's bloodline, there was a strong tendency for the females of the family to have very hard pregnancies. Quatre's own mother had barely even made it through and it was only really luck that had helped her survive until today. Helen hadn't been so lucky, and about a year after Duo was born she'd died in her hospital bed.  
  
After she'd died, her husband had donated a large amount of her family money to the hospital, preserving the maternity wing in her name. Due to population change in the city and surrounding areas, the wings were changed around and the old maternity wing was eventually turned into a wing for those who required longer stays in the hospital. In other words, it became the home of those with terminal diseases and those who were in deep comas and not expected to wake up.  
  
Both boys knew this history by the time they had reached the hospital, but the reality of the situation didn't hit Heero until he stepped into Solo's room and he felt his breath catch in his throat.  
  
The room around them was like any other hospital room and didn't stand out in any way. In fact, it was the room's complete uniformity that struck Heero right away. The room had a small table in the corner with a chair for visitors and a single bed where the boy lay. The TV in the top corner showed small signs of dust and there wasn't a single sign of life in the room save for the regular mechanical beeping of the heart monitor hooked up to the patient. There wasn't even a vase of flowers.  
  
Whoever this boy was, he didn't get many visitors, if any at all.  
  
Heero's eyes moved to the boy lying in the bed as Quatre stepped ahead of him and approached the bed with shaky legs. The boy lying there, dressed in the dull hospital garb, was nearly their age. His face was heart-shaped, still retaining baby fat from his childhood years, giving him a cherubim look that was very rare among boys his age. His peacefully sleeping face was framed by roughly cut light brown hair. Hair cut around his head, never reaching past his ears. Heero found himself wishing from the door that he could see the boy's eyes.   
  
He wondered if they were really that strange shade of violet he always saw in the dreams. He wondered what they would look like shining with happiness instead of hopelessness.  
  
Still, despite the short hair, the slightly older complexion and the closed eyes, there was no mistaking anything. This boy was most definitely the one he saw in his dreams every night, no matter what his name was.  
  
"Duo?" Quatre whispered softly as he reached the edge of the bed. Heero noticed the blond was practically trembling as he leaned forward and placed his hand over the boy's, as if wanting some physical reassurance that he was actually real. Heero watched silently, unsure what to say. Quatre's hand reached forward and gently touched the roughly cut hair around Duo's ear.  
  
"Look what they did to your hair, you'd be so mad if you saw what they did. You always said you never wanted to cut it."  
  
Heero blinked in surprise and remained completely still from the door. He recognized that this was not only the boy from his dreams, but it was also Quatre's long lost cousin. If anything, Quatre's reaction confirmed that. But that wasn't what made him stay completely still. Instead, he realized that Quatre had completely forgotten he wasn't the only one in the room with Duo. Heero wasn't about to break whatever time the blond needed to let this miracle set in. He could only imagine what it was like to search for so long and then finally find what one was looking for… right under one's nose.  
  
His eyes moved around the room as Quatre continued to murmur things to his cousin, as if the boy would talk back to him. Heero didn't listen to the words, knowing the conversation wasn't any of his business, so instead he looked around the room.   
  
It didn't take him long to place everything in the context of his dreams. The mechanical beeping was obviously the heart monitor that continued on at an even pace without beginning or end. The white light had to be the blinding light in the room from above them, bright and angelic white. And even the cold ground he'd felt that first night fit the pristinely clean tiled floor beneath his feet. He even noticed a full length mirror directly facing the bed on the opposite wall. Duo's reflection filled the mirrored room perfectly…  
  
Heero gasped softly as he looked into the mirror and his eyes widened.  
  
Slowly, behind him, Quatre looked up, realizing that he wasn't alone. But Heero didn't notice him, instead he only moved toward the mirror to get a better look.  
  
"Heero? What's wrong?" Quatre asked quietly.  
  
Heero's blue eyes flickered from the sleeping and still Duo in the room, lying next to Quatre. Then his eyes flickered to the Duo in the mirror, who he swore was sitting up in the bed and smiling back at them. And what's more, Duo's reflection still had a long braid of hair that curved down and rested on the bed next to him. As he met eyes with that Duo, the reflection flashed him a grateful smile which echoed from his lips to his brilliant violet eyes.  
  
"Quatre… do you see…?"  
  
Quatre looked to the mirror in confusion and shook his head. "What are you seeing?"  
  
Heero was now right up next to the mirror and he could reach out and touch it. But he didn't dare, for fear of the red light that eventually interrupted all their contacts. "He's sitting up in bed," he whispered softly. "Smiling at us."  
  
The blonde's eyes widened and he turned back to his still cousin. "Duo? You know we're here?"  
  
Heero watched as the reflection nodded slowly. "He's nodding."  
  
Quatre whirled back around to face the mirror. "Why can you see him and I can't?"  
  
"I don't know," Heero murmured back.  
  
"How can we help you come back?" Quatre asked, addressing the mirror.  
  
In the mirror, the reflection of Duo began moving his mouth and gesturing with his hands, but no sounds filled the room. After a second, his arms dropped back to the bed and a sad look covered his face. His eyes moved from Quatre to Heero and flashed a desperate look. He spread his hands on the bed and just shook his head sadly.  
  
"He can't tell us, least not without his voice."  
  
Quatre frowned for a moment in thought as they both watched him. Then his eyes widened and he looked at the mirror, even though all he saw was his cousin just lying there completely still. "Duo, the water. Do you remember the water? In the bowl?"  
  
The reflection seemed to think for a moment and then his entire expression lit up. He began to nod furiously.  
  
"Yes," Heero said. "He's nodding like crazy."  
  
"Then it might work!" Quatre stepped closer to the mirror, opening his mouth to ask something else, but he never got the chance. Before Heero could warn him not to, the blond touched the edge of the mirror and the entire room flashed a bright red.   
  
Heero gave a cry of pain, reaching up to shield his eyes while Quatre fell backward and just barely managed to catch himself before he crashed hard against the clean floor. Both stood in the room for a long moment, staying completely still as their minds tried to process what had just happened. Heero was the first to move as he slowly lowered his arms and blinked his eyes. To his disappointment, the reflection was now exactly like the scene in the room. Even in the mirror Duo was sleeping soundly, without any evidence of ever waking up. Heero sighed softly in defeat and reached down to help Quatre stand.  
  
"What in the world was that?" Quatre asked quietly.  
  
"That is what ever kicks me out every night. I don't know."  
  
The blond rubbed the back of his head. "It felt like some one was screaming, hard, in my skull. It hurt… a lot."  
  
Heero merely nodded.  
  
"We should get out of here. Figure out what to do then come back."  
  
"I agree."  
  
That said the two boys quickly snuck out of the room. Heero paused for only a moment at the door to glance back at the boy in the bed, who still hadn't really moved.  
  
"We'll be back," he whispered softly. "I promise."  
  
**  
  
An hour later found all three of them back at Heero's house, sitting in his room in a deep contemplative silence. Catherine sat in a small fold up chair, chewing on the end of a pen as her eyes roamed the room. Quatre was leaning against the wall near the door, his chin resting in his hand, his eyes almost completely shut. Meanwhile, Heero sat on his bed, the photo album laid out in front of him, as his eyes stared blankly at the worn cover.  
  
Heero glanced up after a moment and his eyes flickered from Catherine to Quatre, then he took a small breath.   
  
"Quatre, what did you mean by the bowl of water?"  
  
Quatre's eyes eased open and he looked over to where Catherine sat, as if silently contemplating something. Catherine met his gaze with a determined one of her own. Neither said anything for a long time.  
  
Finally Catherine did speak up, as she straightened herself in the chair. "If you're going to use my help in all of this, you can't keep me in the dark forever." Her voice was soft, as if she were still in the middle of deep thought, but the words were firm.  
  
More then anything, Heero decided, he would love to let Catherine in on all of this. There were just two main problems with all of that. The first, and of the most importance, was that this was mostly Quatre's decision. It was all Quatre's choice to let Heero into this and ask for his help, despite the strange visions. Duo was, after all, Quatre's cousin and had no relation to Heero whatsoever. On a slightly more minor note was the possibility of trying to explain all of this to Catherine. Heero wasn't even sure if he understood or believed everything that had happened up until this point.  
  
Explaining it to Catherine would force him to reexamine everything, and probably start doubting. He would prefer, if he could, to just take each of these things as they happened. As dangerous as it sounded, he knew he would much rather let things happen then try to interpret them or make them happen.   
  
He also didn't know if, after having everything explained, Catherine would just laugh in their faces.  
  
Quatre gave a small sigh and nodded slowly. "I know."  
  
Catherine waited silently for him to go on… or call it all to an end.  
  
"The problem is, even I don't know how to explain all of this." Quatre responded softly after a while.  
  
A small frown moved across Catherine's face. After a moment she shifted in the chair so she was straddling it, and a small smile crossed her face. "Well, it seems a lot has happened without me being around, so asking you to recount all of it might just be silly. So, how about this idea? Leave me in the dark."  
  
Heero blinked. "What?"  
  
"Leave me in the dark. Considering everything you guys are doing, you already have a good idea of what's going on. Maybe, if you leave me in the dark, I might be able to offer views that you wouldn't notice. If I don't know what's going on completely then I might be able to come up with more unbiased ideas." She paused and grinned. "Or I may just end up suggesting things you two had already thought of."  
  
"That might just work."  
  
"It would certainly save you two the extra trouble of explaining all of this to me." Catherine smiled sweetly. "But I will warn you that I'll ask questions… lots of them."  
  
Quatre grinned back at her. "I think you've got a good idea, and it's certainly worth a try. And if it doesn't work, well we can always sit down and attempt to explain stuff to you at a later point in time."  
  
"Great! So I think Heero had a question for you…"  
  
The blond turned his attention to where Heero sat on the bed. After a small silent moment, he seemed to remember what the question was. "Oh, the bowl of water. Well, I told you about that strange time, when he told me to ask the water some questions and it spoke through him."  
  
Catherine raised an eyebrow at this in surprise, but said nothing.  
  
Heero nodded.  
  
"I thought, maybe we could do something like that. Maybe, if we work it right, he might be able to talk through one of us and use our voice to explain things. It's a very long shot, and I've never tried anything like it before, but we might be able to."  
  
"Let's do it." Heero said with a sharp nod.  
  
"Are you sure? I don't know what the result will be."  
  
Heero nodded again.  
  
A small smile slid across Quatre's face. "All right, here's what we'll need…"  
  
***  
  
The room around them was completely dark, candle light gently flickering at a safe distance away. A full-length mirror had been taken down from the bathroom and it was now propped up against the wall, where it reflected the dimly lit room and the two boys sitting on the floor. Quatre said that it would work as a sort of doorway, since Heero had seen Duo in the mirror at the hospital.  
  
Quatre and Heero sat across from each other, with the photo album between them. Heero had changed into a set of looser clothing, while Quatre sat with his normal button down shirt hanging open. The idea was to be in clothes that would completely relax them, but the result was that Heero felt like they were doing some very strange sleep over.   
  
He quickly banished that thought from his mind.  
  
Closing his eyes, Heero let his mind calm down. He had no idea how any of this would work, but he was willing to try it. At this point he was willing to do pretty much anything that might give them more answers or get them closer to a solution. So he worked to clear his mind and let go of the information he didn't need at the moment.  
  
As Heero sat there concentrating, he felt Quatre's light hands rest on either side of his head, just barely touching him. Heero responded by leaning just slightly forward and resting his hands on the photo album. Then he began the next part, which they had previously discussed.  
  
Slowly, working hard to reproduce every detail, he began to use his mind to reenact the dreams. He pictured himself in his room, and the light sensation that one usually feels just before drifting off to sleep. He then began to remember the small pulling feeling that always accompanied the dreams…  
  
And suddenly he wasn't imagining it anymore, suddenly he was flying. Heero felt as if he were pulled out of his mind and was drifting along, just like all the other dreams. But this time it was different, because he knew he could stop it at any time, which he had no intention of doing.   
  
The world swirled around him as images flashed by. Streets passed faster then any bus and Heero began to recognize the route to the hospital. Just like before, the world around him flashed with white and suddenly he found himself standing in a very hazy version of Duo's hospital room.  
  
"Duo?" He said softly, and his voice sounded very far away.  
  
The room around him seemed to waver, like the reflection on water's surface as the light summer breeze disturbed the surface.   
  
Duo sat in the hospital bed, watching Heero very closely with confused eyes. Heero took a few steps, toward the bed, and reached for him. In response a smile lit up across Duo's face, as if he had finally figured out what was going on. Reaching up slowly with his own hands, he touched Heero's and their fingers locked together.  
  
A rush of air flew up around Heero and he gasped as voices filled his mind. All of them mumbling and speaking, none of them making sense. He locked his eyes with Duo's and the voices immediately quieted down, to a dull throbbing sound that flowed through his body. Then he heard his own voice answer the silent questions.  
  
"Help."  
  
Duo's lips moved with Heero's, in perfect sync as Heero's own voice spoke the words. It was an eerie effect, something he never expected to see save for perhaps in some odd fantasy movie. It was like Duo was throwing his voice, but so much more real then a simple trick like that.  
  
How?   
  
Heero asked the question softly, but no sound came from his own mouth. Still, oddly enough, Duo was able to hear and answer it.  
  
"Find."  
  
The stone?  
  
"Yes."  
  
Where?  
  
"He-"  
  
The voice between them was cut off sharply as the image around them jerked and Heero felt a sudden wave of dizziness. Screaming filled his head, like the building roar of a storm, flowing toward them on threatening waves.  
  
Heero closed both his hands tightly around Duo's. At the action a flash of red filled the air around them and the chains appeared, blinking into view. Heero's own eyes widened as he saw that they were snaked around the bed and Duo's body, like some crazy living vine, or serpent. Small red chains tied him securely to the bed, wrapping up around his arms, and Heero could now see that they prevented him from sitting up, or moving at all for that matter.  
  
"Where?!" Heero's own voice came from his throat in a choked demand as he watched Duo with panicked eyes.  
  
At the word all of the chains seemed to twitch and pull tighter at Duo, causing him to jerk and his face twisted in pain.  
  
Heero held his hands tighter, tight enough to make his own hurt and tremble.  
  
"Where?!" He yelled again as the roaring in his ears became deafening.   
  
Everything around him rolled and he cried out in pain, dizziness swirling around him and red light flashing between them like a strobe light, painful to look upon. Heat filled the area around Heero and the air became thick, making it hard to breathe.  
  
"Where?!" He cried out one more time, his voice taking on a very desperate tilt.  
  
"Merrillian!" The word seemed to rip from Duo's throat in a choked scream as the entire room turned red. Then, a physical force grabbed hold of Heero and threw him away, hurling him backward. He curled in on himself as his back hit something hard and he cried out, the sound of glass shattering loudly around him.  
  
And somewhere in the distance a heart monitor went flat.  
  
** 


	11. chapter 10

Chapter 10  
  
His eyes drifted open slowly, as he glanced at the room around him. At first, his blurry vision was able to make out nothing. Everything around him was so bright, burning whiteness filling every pore of his vision.   
  
It hurt.  
  
He lay there against the stiff softness, trying to move his arms, his legs, his head… but he couldn't. Blinking nearly constantly he willed his eyes to focus, determined to figure out exactly where he was and what was going on. He needed to know.  
  
Slowly his world swam into focus and he was able to make out a bright florescent light above his head. He blinked his eyes again and turned his head, noticing a clean but plain metal table next to him along with a stiff looking folded chair. Everything else in the room was a bright white, as if it had all been sterilized and cleaned to death.  
  
Turning his head down, toward his body, he noticed that his previous guess was wrong. The sheets atop his body were colored, a strange mixture of red and white that seemed horribly out of place in the room.  
  
Why did that pattern seem so familiar?  
  
Slowly, with great effort, he raised one of his hands to look at it in the light and to shield the light from his eyes. But as his hand and arm came into view his breath caught in his throat.  
  
Wrapped tightly around his arm, curling like some deadly serpent squeezing the life out of it's prey, was a set of thick red chains. Upon closer inspection he found that they covered his entire body, tying him securely to the bed.   
  
He turned his head in a panic, looking around the room for a possible way out. What was he doing here? Where was he? How had these chains gotten here?  
  
Why didn't the room have a door!?  
  
His eyes widened beyond belief as he struggled against the chains, but they refused to budge loose. He pulled and pulled and pulled, but still nothing.   
  
"You can stop struggling now," said a soft voice next to him.  
  
Slowly, ever so carefully, he turned his head toward the voice, and once again found himself near shock.  
  
A boy lay next to him, also chained down in a similar fashion. His long chestnut colored hair fanned wildly out under his body, spilling across the pristine white sheets. His violet eyes met the boy's and a small grin crossed his face. A grin of maniacal glee.  
  
"You're trapped like me now. You'll never get free. It won't ever let us go."  
  
He shook his head.  
  
But Duo's eyes narrowed and the grin on his face grew large, to a eerie and scary expression. At the same time Heero felt the chains twisting around his body, turning and curving as they pulled tighter. He was soon being pulled down, his surroundings swallowing him up in a twist and twirl of red chains and white blankets.  
  
"The Merrillian never lets go."  
  
And Heero screamed.  
  
**  
  
His eyes snapped open with a cry of pain as his entire world snapped back around him. The sudden burst of consciousness nearly made him want to jump out of bed, but a hard force held him down where he lay on his stomach and he ended up gasping painfully for air as his body flared with pain. The pain was intense, like thousands of small needles poking into his back. He struggled hard, but something still held him down, preventing any movement. Only after his mind had become slightly accustomed to the pain did he noticed that someone was saying his name.  
  
"Heero, Heero, please, don't move. You'll only tear the stitches. Calm down. Please."  
  
Heero forced himself to listen and stop moving, swallowing his shock and panic until it became an uneasy twist in the bottom of his stomach. Taking a few deep breaths he forced himself to relax. This succeeded in calming his nerves significantly and he slowly turned his mind to other things.  
  
It didn't take long for him to notice that he was lying on his stomach in his own room, his father sitting next to him on the bed. The room was lit dimly from his desk lamp and the hallway light shining in through his door. He could still feel pain radiating from his back, but it had faded to a dull throb now. Heero slowly turned his head to face his father.  
  
"Awake now?"  
  
"Yes," he said, not trusting his ability to nod.  
  
Odin nodded at him and pulled his arms back, releasing his light hold on Heero's shoulders. Sitting back in the chair he'd pulled next to the bed, Odin's eyes flickered with concern to his son.  
  
"What happened?" Heero's tongue felt thick in his mouth, and he recognized the strange after taste left from having drugs that put one to sleep. Well, his father had mentioned stitches and from the pain on his back…  
  
"That's what I was going to ask you," Odin's face creased with concern. "I came home to find an ambulance in the driveway and you being pulled away on a stretcher. Heero, what were you and your friends up to?"  
  
"I…" Heero swallowed hard. "I don't know what happened."  
  
Odin opened his mouth to protest, but seemed to think better of it. "Sorry, I know you were unconscious for it. But Catherine wasn't able to give me a good explanation since she said she wasn't in the room at the time." He sighed softly. "Your back has only a handful of stitches, but they should heal relatively quickly. Apparently the mirror from the bathroom fell on top of you and shattered over you. You're very lucky none of the cuts were that deep."  
  
The mirror had fallen? Heero's mind drifted back to what he and Quatre had been trying to do, and the strange reactions afterward. Now that he thought about it he did remember something shoving him backward and the sound of glass shattering around him. Had the mirror fallen on top of him? Or had he been thrown backward into it?  
  
What had happened to Quatre?  
  
Heero's eyes widened. "What about Quatre? Is he all right?"  
  
Odin nodded. "He's fine. His right arm got cut up pretty bad, but like yours he only needed a couple stitches. His mother came to pick him up before I got a chance to ask him what happened."  
  
At those words Heero relaxed even more and let out a relieved sigh. Settling against the bed he watched his father quietly for a long moment. At least Quatre hadn't been hurt by the mirror, but now he was faced with trying to explain to his father what had happened to them, and why they'd pulled the mirror out of the bathroom. For the life of him he couldn't come up with any plausible excuse, and at the same time he had no idea how to explain the truth to his father.  
  
"Heero…"  
  
Heero couldn't help but cringe at that tone of voice. He knew it well even though his father rarely used it. This was the 'lecture' tone of voice, the tone that all parents saved for those moments when they were about to impart some great wisdom to their children, usually followed by a scolding of some sort. Odin rarely used such a tone with his son, because frankly Heero had never really needed any such discipline, but that didn't keep him from instinctively fearing what was coming next.  
  
Odin glanced down at his lap, where one of the notebooks sat open to a random page. Heero noticed that he must have been reading over them as he waited for his son to wake up.   
  
"Heero, about all of this. I have no idea what you've gotten yourself into, but it seems like something big."  
  
Heero diverted his eyes away from his father, not knowing what to say to that.  
  
"Perhaps I haven't been paying enough attention to you, I know I get caught up in my work a lot-"  
  
"That's not it at all," Heero said softly, but he still didn't meet his father's eyes. Instead he focused across the room on the painting of his mother and Trowa.   
  
Odin sighed again and set a hand on Heero's shoulder. "I'm not going to poke into your business though."  
  
At that Heero blinked and his eyes flickered back to his father. Struggling he turned his head to look straight at him. "You're not?"  
  
The older man offered a small smile. "No, I'm not. Because I figure if you wanted my help with this you would have asked. Because you know I'm always here to help, even if my books seem to suck me in often enough. No, I understand you Heero; I remember being your age. I hated my parents digging into my problems, so I'm not going to. But only if you promise to ask me if you want my help."  
  
Heero nodded slowly, still partially in shock at his father's reaction.  
  
"You've got good friends, Heero. You should have seen Quatre at the hospital. He refused to let any of the doctors touch him, even though he was bleeding pretty badly. He said they had better not touch him until they knew for sure that you were all right. And even after that, his mother had to practically drag him home, he was so worried."  
  
Heero chuckled softly. That definitely sounded like Quatre to him.  
  
"Well, that fatherly lecture said, you need some sleep. I should get out of here and let you sleep. The doctor said that you need to stay in bed and avoid moving for tonight, then I'm suppose to put this stuff on your back and bandage it tomorrow morning. So, stay in bed ok?"  
  
Heero nodded slowly. "I will. Night dad."  
  
Odin nodded and headed for the door, his hand pausing by the switch for the hallway light. But he stopped and glanced back at his son over his shoulder. "It's something big isn't it?"  
  
Heero frowned lightly. "I'm not sure… yeah, yeah it is."  
  
Odin turned around to face his son. "You know, when I always had something that bugged me and it wasn't something I could fix, I used to write it into stories."  
  
"You wrote stories?"  
  
"Where do you think I got into the habit of writing all those journals? I used to write my characters having the troubles I did, and then I had them solve them. I know you don't write, but maybe you could do the same thing with your paintings." He gave a shrug and a smile. "Just a thought."  
  
"Thanks, I may try that."  
  
"Not tonight you won't. Get some sleep, or do I have to hit you over the head and knock you out again?"  
  
Heero chuckled softly. "No, no I promise to stay in bed. Night dad."  
  
"Night."  
  
***  
  
Heero woke up the next morning feeling much better. His sleep had been rare and fitful, thanks to the throbbing pain from his back, and forcing himself not to move during the night left him feeling trapped. But when the sun woke him by shining on his face from the window, he felt in a significantly better condition.   
  
His eyes roamed the room, looking for his father, or anyone else for that matter, but found he was alone. Taking a deep breath he risked pushing himself up slightly with his arms, just enough to flex the muscles on his back.   
  
The response was instant and left him gasping as he dropped back down. His back cried out in pain, but not nearly as badly as he would have expected. Heero sighed to himself and went back to just lying in bed on his stomach, knowing he would just have to wait until his father came up to check on him.   
  
He hoped that wasn't long.  
  
His eyes cast about the room, looking for some sort of distraction to fill his mind and time, sicne he had no interest in trying to fall back asleep. After a moment, his eyes came to rest on the photo album sitting on the table next to his bad. Heero frowned and stretched out his arm, ignoring his back as he took the book and pulled it in front of him to a place where he could look at it and turn the pages with little trouble.  
  
Propping the book against his headboard he flipped to the first page. Written in very neat writing was the name 'Quatre Rabera Winner'. Scrawled next to it, with a black crayon in shaky letters, were the words 'and Duo!'. Heero found himself smiling just slightly as he realized that Duo himself must have written that there. He turned to the next page, slowly, looking at each page.  
  
Heero soon found that the photo album was more then that. Folded in between the photos and small captions, he found scraps of paper with hasitly sketched faces and creatures, school report cards and even a newspaper clipping about Quatre and Duo winning some bike race. It wasn't long before Heero realized exactly what this photo album was. It wasn't just a collection of pictures, but rather a collection of Quatre's memories of his cousin.  
  
The pages were worn and in some places the photos were coming loose, the binding crumbling from use. This book had obviously been paged through many times and Heero even thought he could make out small dots where the paper was just a little bit darker then it should have been. Water marks? From tears?  
  
Heero sighed as he turned to the last page and just stared at the picture. It was a large one, blown up to fit the whole page. Quatre sat in a chair wearing a fancy white outfit, with a table full of gifts in front of him and the biggest grin on his face that Heero had ever seen. Beside him Duo was leaning over the table, blowing out the candles on a cake that clearly had Quatre's name on it, but no one seemed to mind. Duo seemed to be laughing while he was blowing out the candles and even in the picture his eyes were lit up brighter then the candles on the cake.  
  
Idly he wondered what Duo's eyes looked like in real life. Up until this point he'd only seen them in photos, or in the hazy and surreal world of his dreams. He wondered if they shined in real life, or caught the light so that they rivaled the hues of twilight. He wondered what the current Duo would look like now that he was older. Would he still smile the same way when he woke up? Would his eyes finally shine with happiness when the dreams stopped and he woke up?  
  
When the dreams stopped…  
  
Heero shut the photo album quickly and turned his head away from it, resting his cheek against the sun-warmed sheets.  
  
"Heero? You awake?" Odin's voice came from the doorway and Heero moved his head slowly in a nod, not bothering to open his eyes. Instead he just lay there, enjoying the warm sunlight as it danced across his face and made the insides of his eyelids burn bright red.  
  
He heard his father move across the room and move the sheets. Fingers touched his back, gently, where he guessed the stitches were. Then he felt something wet and cold being placed over his skin. His eyes opened and he winced at the sunlight in his eyes. Turning his head he glanced at his father in question.  
  
Odin held up a small plastic white container. "Some soothing painkiller thing the doctors gave me for you. Can you sit up?"  
  
"I think so."   
  
Moving very slowly, and with much help from his father, Heero sat up by moving his back as little as possible. Raising his arms he let his father wrap a thick gauze tightly around his chest, covering the stitches and his stomach tightly. He might have complained a bit about the tightness, but when the gauze was finally wrapped he found he could move without hurting as much. His father had wrapped it tight and thick to restrict his movement just enough. Slowly he tried moving to the edge of the bed and tried to stand. Heero smiled just a bit as he realized he could do so without much pain at all.  
  
"Better?" Odin asked with a raised eyebrow.  
  
Heero nodded. "I think I can move around without much trouble. It'll just take some getting used to."  
  
"No sudden movements."  
  
"Yeah, no sudden movements."  
  
Odin remained by the door as he watched Heero move slowly across the room to his dresser. In any other situation Heero might have minded dressing in front of his father, but this time he understood and decided to indulge his father's attentiveness. After all, it was the least he could do since Odin hadn't pried into this whole strange mess.   
  
After pulling on a pair of jeans and a loose button down shirt, which he left hanging open, he followed his father downstairs. To his surprise he found a familiar blond boy sitting at the table, smiling brightly at him.  
  
"Quatre?"   
  
Odin grinned. "He knocked on the door a few minutes ago, wanting to know how you were doing. Did I mention that you've got some damn persistent friends?"  
  
Quatre chuckled and Heero joined in with a small laugh.   
  
"I also thought you'd like to check on Duo," Quatre said, his voice dropping to a slightly more serious tone.  
  
In a second Heero's humor disappeared too and he nodded. He did want to know if anything had happened after their attempt at communication. He glanced at his silent father, who gave him a small nod of permission, then turned back to Quatre.  
  
"Let's go."  
  
The blond stood up and headed for the door. "My mother's waiting outside and said she'd drive."  
  
**  
  
When both boys arrived at the hospital they were greeted with a not too comforting sight. A large amount of machinery was being just being rolled out of Duo's room. All the doctors and nurses who were leaving the room spoke in hushed voices with eyes that glanced worriedly back into the room. The air around them suddenly felt cold and still despite all the movement in the hallways.  
  
Something had gone wrong.  
  
Heero's eyes widened in fear as Quatre broke into a run beside him. Without much thought Heero followed him, ignoring the protests from his back, as he and Quatre bolted for the room. Shoving through doctors and equipment both came to a halt as soon as they were inside the room and could see, at least partially, what was going on.  
  
Duo lay in his bed, just like before, but with dramatic changes. His skin was now ashen and pale, nearly matching the white sheets beneath his body. Evidence of glistening sweat covered his skin and the covers were wrinkled around him, like he'd been thrashing about in pain. His hair was wet and matted against his face and the pillow below his head as the person sitting beside him gently mopped his forehead with a damp cloth.   
  
It only took a few seconds for Heero to notice who this person was. He didn't need to be told at all.  
  
Raymond Maxwell was a spitting image of his son, or was it the other way around? The older man, who was dressed in a now very wrinkled business suit, had the same shade of brown hair cut very close to his head, and a matching beard to go with it. Small eyes, red from possible crying or excessive stress, darted across the room to them. Those eyes met with Quatre's and were suddenly filled with a look of such intense hatred that Heero found himself taking a step back in reflex.  
  
"Get out!" The man hissed angrily.  
  
Quate's own eyes narrowed and he clenched his fists at his sides. But he stood his ground. "No," he said, in a softer but firm voice.  
  
"Get the fuck out of here, Winner! You aren't welcome! I should have known this was your fault, all of this." The man's face grew red as his voice raised in fury. "You and your fucking family, take everything from me why don't you? Isn't it about time you find a new person's life to fuck with?! Goddamn it, can't I have my own miserable peace?!"  
  
The blond flinched like he'd been slapped, hard and he shut his eyes, struggling to stay calm. But whatever he attempted failed, because, as far as Heero could see, in the next moment Quatre seemed to snap.  
  
"You think I didn't lose him in this too!?" The blond bit back without looking at the man.  
  
The man didn't respond to Quatre's words, just continued to glare icily at him.   
  
"Duo was one of the best friends I've ever had! More like a brother then a cousin any day. How do you think I felt when you were standing in front of me, swearing up and down that he'd been kidnapped? How do you think that made me feel!? Especially when I find out he's been sitting here all this time, right under my nose! Why would you do that?!" Tears were filling the blonde's eyes as he fixed Raymond with an almost desperate look.  
  
Raymond responded by spitting to the floor. His voice came out in a hiss of hatred that was so thick it almost felt like a physical force. "My wife is dead, because of you. My son is dead because of you. Everything I held dear is gone, because of you. Because of you I'm reduced to caring for what is only a doll! Is it a joke of yours to make him like this? I can't even bring myself to pull the plug, no matter how many years or how much money it takes, I can't. And I only have the Winners to blame. You and your fucking family are the reason behind all of this!"  
  
Quatre seemed to crumble at those words, or perhaps at the intense hatred directed at him. He backed away from Raymond until his back hit the wall and he wrapped his arms around himself, tears streaming down his face. Heero's eyes flickered from the sobbing blond to the red-faced man at the bed. His own eyes narrowed and he stepped forward, he'd had enough.  
  
"And if we're trying to help him?" He asked, his voice smooth and firm.   
  
Raymond suddenly seemed to realize someone else was in the room, someone he didn't recognize or know. But that didn't change his anger or his disposition. "He's dead, he's been like this for years. What the hell do you honestly think you can do?"  
  
Heero glared at him. "If I were his father, and I was in your place, I would be willing to try anything about now. Especially if there was even a slim chance it would work."  
  
The man practically shook with anger, his face glowing a bright red. Bringing up a threatening fist, he clenched it tight enough to tremble in front of his chest.   
  
"How dare you accuse me of not trying, you have no idea what is going on here."  
  
"I know enough."  
  
"Fuck you! Both of you! Get the fuck out of this room! You aren't allowed in here and I don't ever want to see you again!" To add to his words, Raymond punched the nurse's call button.   
  
A pair of doctors appeared at the door, looking suddenly very worried at the heated exchange. Still, to their credit, they recovered quickly and stepped into the room to help remove Heero and Quatre. One of them moved toward Heero and he slapped their hands away, causing him to stop in surprise. Ignoring the doctors he carefully walked over to Quatre and wrapped his arms around the sobbing boy, then led him out of the room.   
  
Heero spared Raymond a look of complete pity, which only seemed to make the man angrier, if that were even possible, then they left the room.  
  
Heero guided the blond to a bench in another hallway, where he helped him sit down to relax. Tears were still streaming down his face, but he seemed to be calming now that he was out of the room. Slowly, Quatre's sobs died down to small sniffles. Using his sleeve, the blond angrily wiped away the remainder of his tears, and turned away from Heero.  
  
"I'm sorry I broke down in there," he whispered softly.  
  
"Nothing to apologize for. Perfectly understandable considering what he said." Heero responded quietly.  
  
Quatre brought up his knees on the bench and hugged them tightly against his chest, and Heero just then noticed the bandages wrapped tightly around one of his arms. His mind drifted to the mirror and to what all had happened to his back.  
  
"Quatre… do you think we hurt him?" Heero asked softly.   
  
The blond bit back a small sob, knowing that Heero wasn't talking about Raymond anymore, but his son. "I… don't know…" he whispered.  
  
Heero bit his lower lip and glanced at the blond in worry. "I hope what he said is worth it."  
  
Quatre looked up at Heero in question.  
  
"Before I was thrown out of the dream, I was able to speak with Duo. He said we need to find the stone. And then he said a strange word… Merrillian."  
  
Quatre frowned. "It doesn't ring any bells."  
  
Heero remained silent, but then his eyes slowly lifted and met Quatre's.   
  
"I think I recognize it. But I have to go back home, in my father's study to be sure. If I'm wrong then the word at least sounds rare enough that we shouldn't be bogged down with information. But if it isn't enough…"  
  
Quatre nodded slowly when Heero didn't let the sentence finish. The meaning was close enough; Heero had no intention of trying to contact Duo like that again, not when this was the result.  
  
They could only hope that this last clue would bring them to the answer. 


	12. chapter 11

Chapter 11  
  
Heero knocked quietly on the door to his father's office.   
  
A moment later the door was opened and the boys found themselves within Odin Lowe's preferred world. Books lined every wall, from floor to ceiling in a mess that was actually orderly in its chaos, or so Odin claimed. Books everywhere, the pattern only broken by the old computer which sat on his father's desk. But the machine was so old that it only really worked to type up documents and print them out. It was far too slow for the internet or anything else that one might have wanted to put on it.  
  
Odin's excuse was that he liked turning pages.  
  
"Dad?" Heero pushed the door open farther and looked around for his father. It took a moment before he found the older man hunched over in the far corner, rearranging a few of the books.  
  
"Have you seen my copy of "The History of War: An Endless Waltz"? I seem to have misplaced it."  
  
Heero smirked and stepped into the room, Quatre following him silently and stared at all the books in wonder. "Three shelves above you and to the left," Heero said with barely a look.  
  
Odin sat up and glanced up to the place he'd indicated. "Well, what do you know? Hm, I wonder what made me put it there." He murmured a few more things to himself then grabbed the book and began paging through it in search of some unknown little tidbit of knowledge.  
  
"Hey, Heero. These all of the mythology books?"  
  
Heero glanced over to see Quatre looking at another shelf lined with particularly thick volumes. He stepped over and scanned the shelf for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, that should be all of them."  
  
The blond nodded his own head and pulled one down. Flipping it to the back, he began scanning through the index. Behind them Odin made his way over, still paging through his own book.  
  
"And what are you boys so intent on finding?"  
  
Heero frowned and turned to his father. "Ever heard of something called the Merrillian?"  
  
"Merrillian? Now why does that sound familiar?" Odin scratched the side of his head and gently pushed Quatre out of the way, his eyes beginning to scan the shelves and book titles before him.  
  
"I think it's the name of a red stone, and I'm pretty sure it's one of the artifacts I helped you catalog at the museum." Heero supplied.  
  
Odin Lowe scanned the shelf, muttering the name to himself a few times, then frowned. Turning, he took one book off the very edge of the shelf, right next to the wall and leaned back. Flipping to around the middle, he turned a few pages then grinned.  
  
Quatre looked up, waiting patiently.  
  
"Lesser well known then its cousin, the Oracle of Delphi, the Merrillian Oracle has a much more complicated history." Odin read from the book without glancing at the boys. He paused and turned the page, scanning for a moment before saying anything else.  
  
"That's it," Heero said softly. Behind him, Quatre closed the book he was holding and swallowed hard.  
  
Odin continued.  
  
"The oracle gains its title from the name given to the stone which is believed to hold its powers. Unlike the Oracle of Delphi, though, this Oracle had only one host, who was almost always a young boy just entering his teens. The boy was selected from a nearby city and taken away from his parents to become the Priest who would share his visions. His name would be replaced, his whole identity erased for that matter, and from the point of his initiation he was only addressed as The Merrillian.  
  
"The Merrillian was well known for his accurate visions, which were obtained through a dreamlike state after the questions were asked. However, the Oracle carried with it a shaded reputation. Due to unknown circumstances, all Merrillian Priests never lasted more then three years in their posts, some even less."  
  
Quatre began to tremble and slowly backed away, searching numbly for a chair, or something to support him. He soon found himself leaning against the edge of Odin's desk as the man continued to read.  
  
"Though it was never completely explained, the common tale is that the Priest would fall asleep, to gain answers for one of the many people who traveled to this particular oracle. Eventually he would not wake up. Nothing else would be wrong with him, in fact the Priest would still appear to be breathing and alive, but he would refuse to wake up or respond to anything said or done to him. Eventually the boy was disposed of and another Priest was chosen, thus beginning the cycle again."  
  
Odin frowned and looked up from the book, apparently reaching the end of the small entry. To his surprise he found Quatre leaning against his desk, the blonde's face pale and drained. Meanwhile Heero had a scared look on his face, his eyes locked on the book. Odin's frown deepened.  
  
"What's this all about?" He asked the boys quietly.  
  
"Dad," Heero said softly. "What happened to that stone? I remember seeing it at the museum."  
  
"Now that I know exactly what artifact you're talking about, I do remember it. I cataloged it, like my job was, then it was shipped off to another museum for an exhibit. But somewhere along the line it was lost. The museum did an official inquiry, but nothing was ever found. And since the stone was so small it was passed off as a case no one could really do anything about. Now Heero, what is going on? Why are you two acting like I've got a gun pointed to your heads?"  
  
Heero swallowed hard and walked over to Quatre, a concerned look on his face. Not responding to his father's comment he wrapped a comforting arm around the blonde's shoulder.  
  
"Quatre, you ok?"  
  
Quatre nodded, taking a few deep breaths and calming down.  
  
"Heero?" Odin repeated, in a lower, more demanding voice.  
  
Heero frowned and turned to his father, his face set in a very serious expression. "Please, dad, don't ask."  
  
"I know I said I wouldn't ask before but-"  
  
"Then don't." Heero interrupted harshly. "Just please, don't."  
  
Odin's mouth dropped open at the harsh words, but for the life of him he couldn't come up with a response. All he could do was stand there and watch as Heero helped Quatre out of the room quietly, leaving him standing with the thick book in hand. As the door shut behind them, Odin sighed softly and placed the book back on the shelf.  
  
"Damnit. I've always sucked at being a parent," he muttered quietly.   
  
His eyes drifted to the desk, where a small framed picture sat of him and his wife, holding Heero as a baby in the hospital bed.  
  
"But this time, for his sake, I'm not backing down."  
  
***  
  
From up in his room, Heero watched the car pull out of the driveway. Quatre was tucked safely in the front seat, not saying a single word to anyone after what they'd heard, save to call his mother for a ride again. As the car pulled off, Heero could see him sitting in the window, gazing out with a blank expression.  
  
Everything they'd heard, all they knew, it was mind blowing to finally place all the pieces together. They now knew why Duo had disappeared, they knew why he was in a coma and they knew why Heero kept seeing Duo in his dreams.   
  
All of it centered on a small stone called Merrillian.  
  
Heero sighed softly and dropped down on his bed, rolling on to his stomach so as not to hurt his bandaged back. And slowly, as he lay there, he went through all the pieces, placing them side by side in his head.  
  
He was connected to Duo and was seeing the dreams, as far as he figured, because of that one day they'd met at the museum and both touched the stone. Something about Duo had made the stone react to him, and that was most likely his strange powers which he'd inherited from Quatre's family. Then the stone disappeared from the museum and Duo went missing.  
  
But Duo had never really gone missing. Instead he'd slipped into a coma and Raymond, his father, had been so pissed he'd placed Duo under a false name at the local hospital where Catherine now volunteered. Raymond knew about Quatre's family's strange talents and hated them for it, blaming them for everything bad that had ever happened to him. And Heero received the dreams because of that moment which he'd touched the stone with Duo.  
  
That small moment bound them together in this and was what had gotten him pulled into this entire mess. That small moment and…  
  
Heero lifted his head and glanced across the room at the painting on his wall. Olive green eyes watched him back from the painting, shaded only slightly by long bangs.   
  
That moment and the death of a close friend. Trowa.  
  
Heero sat up and looked up at the painting, frowning to himself. The image of Trowa and his mother watched him back with calm eyes and cool smiles, almost as if they were telling him that they had faith in him that he could figure out the missing pieces.  
  
After all, they knew how Duo had been trapped, they knew what was holding him, they knew why… they just didn't know how to set him free.   
  
But there just had to be something…  
  
Heero stood up from his bed and walked over to the closet. Opening the door he pulled out his other painting, the first one he'd done of the dream. Swallowing hard, he turned it so he could see it.  
  
Despite having seen the dream nearly every night since this had all started, the image still struck him as eerily realistic. As he looked at the painting, he was overcome by a strange urge to try and reach into the painting and help untangle the poor boy from the chains. His eyes even moved over the network, figuring out how exactly he could untie everything…  
  
"Damn!" Heero swore loudly, his voice echoing through the entire room. Clenching his fists hard he stared at his white knuckles as they shook and the blood drained out.  
  
There had to be something he could do! Something!  
  
And then it hit him, like a bolt of lightning.  
  
Heero literally stumbled back from the painting, staring at the strange shape of the boy hanging there as he realized exactly what he was thinking.  
  
True he was pondering a way to set Duo free, just as he'd told Quatre he would. But, now, for the first time, he realized the horrible truth.  
  
***  
  
Whiteness surrounded him, swirling around him like a blanket. He closed his eyes and let the pulling stop, ending to let him rest on the hard concrete floor. He felt the pulling wash away and the sound of the heart monitor filled the air around him. Now that he knew exactly where he was, he could make out more details.   
  
He could smell the sickeningly clean air. He could hear the heart monitor beeping faintly yet steadily in the background, almost as if the machine itself were struggling to keep going at that beat. It sounded like it would shut down at any moment. He could pinpoint all the things that made this room identifiable as the very hospital room where he knew Duo lay.  
  
He knew the pulling was done and that he'd arrived, and yet Heero couldn't quite bring himself to open his eyes. He remembered how Duo had looked earlier that day, how pale and broken and weak he'd seemed lying behind his father. It was one of Heero's fears that he might actually be like that still. Or worse.  
  
It seemed to take forever but Heero finally forced himself to open his eyes and look around the room.  
  
To his surprise, or perhaps not, he found it to be no different then usual. The room was the same simple hospital room, showing signs of only one inhabitant and no visitors. The white surrounding him, which might have been blinding in real life or even in another dream, took on an almost soothing tone and Heero soon found his fear disappearing and being replaced with curiosity as his eyes moved towards the bed and Duo.  
  
Just like the other times in the hospital room he found Duo sitting there silently, watching him with quiet and patient eyes. There was no red anywhere in the room; nothing to even hint at the stone that Heero now knew held the boy hostage. Heero took a deep breath and approached the bed.  
  
Violet eyes watched him closely; a questioning look on the boy's heart shaped face. He watched Heero calmly, but there was something different. It took a moment for Heero to notice it but when he did, he stopped cold in his tracks.  
  
Duo was watching him with a kind of fear. Caution.  
  
As Heero stopped, the world around him began to swirl and fade.  
  
Right before his eyes, the hospital room wavered away and red chains appeared, almost gently lifting Duo into the air until he was hanging suspended much as the first time Heero had ever seen him. But this time there was a major difference.  
  
This time the chains weren't all red.  
  
This time many of the chains were blue.  
  
And those blue chains reached back to Heero's fingers.  
  
Tears slipped from Heero's eyes as he tried to pull his hands free. Yet every move he made caused Duo to give a look of pain, since the chains were still attached. He tried everything, his mind building into a near panic until he realized, finally, that all he was accomplishing was hurting Duo more.  
  
His knees collapsed out from under him and Heero dropped to the floor, where he crouched, crying and staring in horror at his own hands.   
  
He'd wanted to help save Duo, to stop all of this… but now he was only making it worse. Somewhere along the line he'd started helping the stone which held Duo captive instead of helping to stop it. But where?  
  
Where had everything gone wrong?  
  
A soft tapping of something against the cold ground under his feet caught his attention and Heero looked up slowly.  
  
Duo stood before him, still wrapped in the now blue and red colored chains.   
  
Crying softly, Heero watched as the violet-eyed boy reached toward him, sadness in his eyes.  
  
"I'm sorry..." Heero whimpered softly. "I'm so sorry."  
  
A small understanding smile crossed Duo's lips and he wrapped his chain encircled arms gently around Heero's body. All the while Heero trembled quietly and kept murmuring his apologies.  
  
"I'm sorry… but I don't want to set you free anymore. I'm so sorry. So sorry…" 


	13. chapter 12

Author's Note: Many thanks to 0083 for the inspiration for Heero's work of art in this chapter.   
  
Chapter 12  
  
Heero awoke from the dream to find his face wet with his own tears. Curling in on himself under the covers of his bed, he wrapped his arms around his own trembling body and just lay there, letting his mind replay the dream.  
  
What he'd seen. What had happened. He was only hurting Duo now. Especially since he now knew that he didn't want to free Duo, for his own horrible and selfish reasoning.  
  
Somewhere along the line, he'd gotten used to the dreams. Somewhere along the line, despite their morbid style and message, he'd actually come to take comfort in the dreams. He had started to look forward to them, if only to see Duo again, despite his condition. Something about the dreams was strangely comforting and now he was faced with losing all of that.  
  
His rational mind screamed at him. It was a dream! There was no reason to keep it, no reason to seek comfort in seeing Duo like that. It was absolutely absurd and practically insane to seek comfort from such a morbid vision of torture. Yet, Heero couldn't deny it now, because he knew it was the truth.   
  
Somewhere along the line he'd fallen in love with Duo.  
  
And if those dreams were the only way to see him, then he didn't want them to stop.  
  
Even if that meant Duo would be trapped for the rest of his life.  
  
Heero sighed angrily, disgusted at his own thoughts. Sitting up in bed he angrily wiped away his own tears and started to get out of bed. He stopped though when he saw his father standing in the doorway.  
  
Odin looked mad.  
  
"How long have you been standing there?" Heero asked quietly. Standing up he moved toward the bathroom and grabbed a towel, wiping off his face.  
  
"Perhaps not long enough," Odin responded in his own quiet voice. Stepping into the room, he shut the door behind him and leaned against it, making very clear that he intended to have a talk with his son, period.  
  
Heero blinked at his father, forgetting his own problems long enough to be confused. This wasn't like his father at all. Odin wasn't the type to push a talk on his son. Not at all.  
  
"Heero, we need to talk about this."   
  
Heero sighed.  
  
"I know I said I wouldn't pry, but I guess I lied. Anyone can see that whatever this thing is, it's huge. Up until this point I've pretty much let your life be your own. But this time, as your father, I need to step in." Odin took a deep breath and relaxed, letting it out slowly. "Yeah… so that said, please tell me what is going on Heero. This is eating you up, I can tell."  
  
In spite of himself, Heero found he was smiling at his father. It was a very small smile, but one none the less. He knew his father stunk at this kind of thing, and oddly enough, the times that he did step forward and try to yank some information out of his son, his approach was almost comical. It served more as a stress relief for both of them then anything else.  
  
Heero took a seat on the bed, his eyes moving over to the painting from his dream. "How much…" He stopped, retracting his statement to reword it. After a long moment of silence between the two, Heero looked up and met his father's eyes, then looked back to the floor.  
  
Taking a deep breath, he tried again. "With all those artifacts you study, how much of it do you think is true?"  
  
Odin blinked at his son, lifting an eyebrow in question. From his father's expression, Heero guessed this wasn't what his father had expected to hear. Heero didn't even need to reflect on the question to know why it was so strange. Nothing seemed normal to him anymore. In fact, he would have welcomed any of the normal problems that college students his age were supposed to have to deal with.  
  
With a soft sigh, Odin took a seat on the bed next to his son. "It's not that that matters."  
  
Heero's eyes flickered to him with a quizzical look.  
  
"Oddly enough, I've found that it's not the truth that matters. Hearing this from a scientist is probably pretty strange, but after so many years it makes sense to me. I've seen countless religions, countless beliefs and countless artifacts, all claiming to have one power or another, good and bad. But under all of them there is one thing they hold in common. The important part is not the object itself, but the belief behind it."  
  
"That doesn't make sense."  
  
"Actually, yes it does. Think about it. Take any culture in the world and look at them, what they practice and how they live. Always, their belief structure holds all this together in some form or another. To them, truth holds meaning, but more importantly the belief is what threads them all together."   
  
Heero frowned, pondering those thoughts for a long moment. "You're gonna think I'm insane."  
  
Odin chuckled. "I've heard so many so-called wild tales in my life, you couldn't possibly top them. That's part of the spice of studying other cultures."  
  
"Well, that's my problem. Right there." Heero pointed at the painting of Duo hanging in the network of chains. "He is real, he is an actual person. And I see him every night in my dreams, just like that. And I… don't know how to help him."  
  
Odin stood up from the bed, with a frown growing on his face. Walking over to the painting, which was still leaning against the closet door, he knelt down to get a closer look. Silence filled the room and every minute longer, Heero found himself shrinking further away. He kept on thinking that he shouldn't have said anything. Now his father would think he was insane and he wouldn't be any better off then before.  
  
"Interesting." Odin murmured softly. "And I'm assuming this has to do with that stone you asked about… the Merrillian?"  
  
Heero blinked in surprise and looked at his father. "Uh, yeah."  
  
Odin nodded, running his hand through his hair in thought. "Judging what I know about beliefs surrounding dreams… Hm." Odin glanced over to his son. "Are the strings holding him up… or is he holding the strings together?"  
  
"What?"  
  
Odin stood up and smirked a bit at his son. "I said, are the strings holding him up or is he holding them together? If you can't solve a problem, then step back and look at it differently. And I don't mean stand on your head."  
  
Heero still stared at his father, not sure at all how to go about doing that.  
  
"Yeah, so I still stink at giving this fatherly advice thing. Maybe I should study how other cultures take care of their children and try to apply it to my own life. Maybe they have an ancient book on child rearing somewhere."  
  
"A book?" Heero's eyes widened a bit as he remembered something else his father had said not too long ago. Something about writing out your problems so you could look at them differently… or painting them…  
  
Without warning Heero stood up quickly and moved to his closet. Stepping around his father, he opened the door and pulled out a new canvas. Setting it against the wall, he searched around for a few clean brushes.  
  
"What are you up to?"  
  
Heero smirked a bit and pulled everything into his arms, heading for the door. "I'm going to look at it a different way. And then I'm going to paint myself a solution."  
  
**  
  
The minute he dipped the brush into the paint and set it to the canvas, his painting began to take on a life of it's own. He made no attempt to figure out the overall picture before hand, but instead let his hand glide across the canvas as his subconscious directed. Working with whatever color felt right at the time and keeping Duo and a solution in the back of his mind, he let his muses take over, painting the image before him.  
  
Light colors, dark colors, mixed and swirled together to create an image of immense reality. And all the while Heero thought of nothing else. His mind blocked out the world and little by little it seemed to fade around him. He lost track of the wooden floor beneath his feet, covered with old and yellowed newspapers. He stopped seeing the walls of the porch and the summer scene beyond. He stopped hearing the birds outside, the cars passing by, and the talking of those who passed. He lost track of everything, even the strain in his back from his healing cuts. All that mattered was the canvas before him and the pallet in his hand. Nothing else.  
  
There was nothing else.  
  
There was nothing else but him and the painting.  
  
Him and figuring out how to set Duo fr-  
  
"Heero!!"  
  
Heero dropped the paintbrush and stepped back in surprise. Turning, he found Catherine standing in the doorway, her hands on her hips. She frowned deeply at him as he shook his head and bent down to pick up the dropped paintbrush.  
  
"What in the world are you doing? I said your name about five times and you didn't so much as blink!"  
  
"Sorry," Heero muttered. "I guess I was caught up in the painting."  
  
"Just what in the world are you painting anyway?" Catherine stepped into the room and maneuvered her way across the newspaper so she wouldn't get paint on her socks. She stopped and gasped softly as she stood in front of the painting. Hearing her, Heero took his first look at the painting as well.  
  
Before them stood a piece of art that was, at the same time, one of the most beautiful and most eerie images they had ever seen.  
  
In the center, just like the other, was Duo. The long red chains still suspended him in the air, but he wasn't curled in a ball anymore. Instead he was almost standing in the air, looking down below him, his long chestnut colored hair hanging around him like a torn cloth. Below him, in the very bottom corner of the painting, was a shadowed figure with its arms reaching into the air, like it was ready to catch him.   
  
The air around them was filled with speckles of red and blue light, almost like the remains of two forces clashing together to explode into fireworks, which now slowly dripped to the horizon. And everywhere on the chains, where they connected and intertwined, was a pair of hands, working to untie the pieces. Many working together to free the poor boy, and one person ready to keep him from falling.  
  
Heero starred at the painting in amazement, he couldn't believe that had come from his own mind. And even more amazing, as he looked at the incredible details, a plan began to form in his mind.   
  
All the pieces slipped together, clicking into place perfectly to show him the complete puzzle.  
  
Only one piece remained. But he knew exactly where to find that piece.  
  
One more piece and the puzzle would become whole.  
  
A slow grin moved across Heero's face and he turned to look at Catherine, who only starred at him in confusion.  
  
"Heero, why are you smiling like that?"  
  
"I figured it out." He said softly.  
  
"You figured what out?"  
  
"I know how to set Duo free. I know how."  
  
Her eyes widened and in a moment she was returning the smile brightly, nearly bursting with energy. "How?! And when the heck did you figure this out?"  
  
Heero shook his head and dropped his brush in the water, letting it soak with all the others. Then he raced out of the room for the kitchen, Catherine following behind him, yelling in protest.  
  
"Heero! Where are you going?"  
  
"To Quatre's! Hurry!"  
  
"Damnit, Heero! Wait up!"  
  
** 


	14. chapter 13

Ha! Managed to get out another chapter in between my homework piles. I apologize if this seems a little rushed, but I was trying to get the effect of flashing scenes back and forth and don't think I accomplished it very well. Also seem to have a habit of rushing stories when I get close to the end... sorry about that.  
  
Hope you all enjoy it  
  
*huggles*  
-----Snow Tigra  
  
Merrillian  
Chapter 13  
  
The night air swirled softly around them, picking up scattered bits of garbage and plastic bags, dragging them into a dance across the streets and yards. The moon wasn't full that night, and the starlight barely gave illumination to the streets. Streetlights were definitely a blessing.  
  
The trio dressed in black moved across lawns, ducking through back yards, and avoided dogs sleeping in their small houses. In spite of the fact that there was no way they could be followed, they still felt the need to sneak. It pointed to their insecurities about what they were about to do, not to mention their innocence to it. Either way though, they made it to their target without being seen and easily managed to silently congregate in the dark backyard that was surrounded by a thick wooden fence, made to block out the sounds of a nearby road.  
  
Without any words, the blond went first, grasping onto a tree branch and pulling himself up into it with only a small amount of strain. The second boy followed, leaving the last of the group to wait under the tree and watch through the window as Raymond slept in his room, snoring loudly.  
  
Quatre made his way up the tree until he reached the exact branch he needed, then stood up and slowly began to inch across it; his arms outstretched like it were a tight rope. Taking careful steps in the dark, he made his way down the branch until the small shingled eave was within reach. Crouching down, he took a deep breath and stepped over to it, careful to step as quietly as he could. Leaving the branch completely he walked up the outcropping and tested a small window right at the edge.  
  
It was locked.  
  
Heero followed him down the branch and came to stand next to him on the roof. Quatre frowned and shook his head, indicating that the window was locked. A small nod of his own and Heero knelt down to peer at the window, looking for the lock or another way to get in.  
  
They had expected the window to be locked. After all, Raymond had caught Duo sneaking out of it enough times before. It would only stand to reason that he would lock the windows now that Duo was permanently living in a hospital room. Unfortunately, they weren't sure how else to get into the house without breaking something and committing an actual crime… as if this wasn't crime enough.  
  
Heero inched toward the edge of the roof and stepped off, stepping onto the very small sill of Duo's window. Inching across it, he held the top with one hand and looked above. An attic window lay just above it, not too far out of reach. Taking a deep breath and wishing he'd taken more gym classes that focused on arm strength, Heero pulled himself up and worked his way until he was standing on the upper edge of Duo's window. The small outcropping of wood that lined the window was barely enough for the tips of his tennis shoes, but enough for him to balance on as his hands grasped the lower ledge of the attic window.  
  
"Be careful," Quatre murmured worriedly as he glanced down at the ground. They were high enough up that falling would hurt, if not break something. Not to mention that they were now above the fence and could be seen by the neighbors. He just hoped that no one happened to look out and see them.  
  
Heero gritted his teeth and held tightly to the sill with one hand, while his other worked at opening the attic window. Unlike the one for Duo's room, this window wasn't locked. However it only opened outward, and that left him with very little to hold onto as he slowly worked the window open. Two pinched fingers and one bleeding one later, Heero managed to pull the window open and hauled himself up through it, into the attic.   
  
Dropping to the floor as quietly as he could, he stopped and took a few deep breaths, listening to the house around him.  
  
A thrill filled his body as he looked around at the dark room. Adrenaline flew through his veins as what he'd just done sunk in completely. He'd broken into someone's house while they were sleeping, and now he intended to let Quatre in and go about the business of stealing something from Duo's old room. Never in his life had he ever even considered doing such a thing as this before.  
  
But in order for the plan to work they had little choice.  
  
Standing up and taking a few more deep breaths to stay calm, he pulled the window closed behind him and then searched for the attic stairs, which led down to the second floor. Moving down the stairs and through dark hallways, he found the house to be alien and unreal around him.  
  
Nothing moved, the floor rarely creaked, and only the sounds of mechanical clocks ticked and filled the silence. Scattered across the clean walls were several photos of the same young boy, grinning mischievously back at him. Picture after picture were arranged tastefully over the walls until it looked like some strange patchwork quilt, all of the same boy growing up and smiling back at the camera.  
  
Heero couldn't help but stop and take a few moments to look over the photos as he passed them. They seemed to be everywhere, speaking of the pride Raymond had held for his son. School performances, plays, sports, nearly every moment of Duo's child life captured on film for all to see.   
  
But upon closer inspection, Heero found that none of them were actual photos. Rather all the pictures, when looked at closer, turned out to be printouts from a computer. Recent printouts at that, if one looked at the quality of the images.  
  
These photos had been placed on the walls to replace the boy who no longer lived in this house.  
  
Heero took a deep breath and tried to suppress the shudder that moved through his body. He could only imagine what it must have felt like for Raymond to lose his wife and then his son like this. It certainly didn't warrant the way he treated Quatre and his family, but Heero now had a small amount of understanding for the pain this man had endured at losing his family right before his eyes.   
  
Shaking his head and breaking the thoughtful trance Heero picked up his steps and made his way to Duo's room. Ignoring the setting around him, he opened the window and helped Quatre crawl in, both of them giving the signal to Catherine that they were safely inside.   
  
Now they just had to find it.  
  
**  
  
Quatre stepped into the room and came to a halt, staring at the darkness.  
  
Nothing had changed.  
  
Duo's room stood exactly as he'd seen it that last time he'd been in this house.   
  
The bed was made, which was about the only change, but everything else seemed perfect. Books were crammed on the shelves, mixed in with figurines and various other odd objects that Duo had taken a liking to for various reasons. Quatre immediately recognized the blue glass bowl Duo had bought for himself at a garage sale so he didn't have to borrow the one from Quatre's house. A deck of cards was spread across the desk, a couple turned over and notes scribbled on a pad in illegible handwriting.  
  
He walked over to the bedside table and found a photo of both of them playing on a pair of swings not too far from this house. Everything about this room was just too perfect. So perfect that any moment he expected to walk in front of a mirror and find that he was ten again and Duo would be beside him, that grin across his face.  
  
Quatre sighed softly and pushed the memories away, turning his attention to the task at hand. They didn't have time to waste reminiscing about the past.  
  
"Where?" Heero asked in the softest voice possible.  
  
Quatre frowned as his eyes scanned the room. Nothing in the place particularly stuck out to him, but he knew it had to be here somewhere. Now where would Duo keep something so important to him? Or rather, where would he hide the Merrillian?  
  
Quatre's eyes drifted to the bedside table once more and he knelt down next to it. Opening the single drawer, he was greeted with a small collection of pencils and notebooks. One particular notebook caught his eye, a diary with a small lock on the front.  
  
Quatre pulled it out of the drawer and muttered a small apology, then snapped it open, ripping the cover in order to get past the lock. He flipped to the end and found the last entry.  
  
"I don't even know why I'm trying anymore. The dreams won't stop, no matter how far back in the drawer that I hide the thing. They just keep coming and are always so vivid. I wish I could forget them. This isn't fun anymore."  
  
Quatre frowned and set the book down. Duo had hid the stone in the back of the drawer? Pulling the drawer out more, he slipped his hand all the way in and quietly shifted the items around.   
  
Oddly enough it didn't surprise him at all when his fingers met with a smooth surface. Wrapping his hand around it, he pulled it from the drawer and out so they could both see it.  
  
But setting his eyes upon the stone turned out to be a huge mistake.  
  
**  
  
The boy opened his eyes and found himself floating. The world around him snapped out of existence as silence and darkness roared in his ears. He blinked and looked around him, wondering what was going on, fear starting to rise in his body.  
  
He felt things around him, shadows and whispers of people. Young voices murmured words in many different languages, all speaking in soft tones, which were filled with fear and wonder at the same time. He could see the shadows growing around him, their hands reaching toward him in eerie waves. Like the tides of the ocean, slowly moving in closer with each try.  
  
Backing away, he looked down and found his hands glowed with a red light, a shimmering red crystal sitting in his fingers. Against the darkness around him and the strange shadowy figures, the red light felt warm and comforting. He wrapped his fingers tighter around the stone and found that its warmth grew, seeping gently into his body.  
  
When he looked up at the shadows, they didn't seem quite so scary anymore, but rather more like shades that couldn't hurt him. Yet at the same time, he couldn't help but notice that they seemed to come closer with each time he wrapped his fingers tighter around the stone.  
  
A world of contradictions seemed to fly up around his mind.  
  
Who were the shadows? Why did they get closer when he backed away? Why did they look so familiar? Why did they resemble him so much?  
  
The boy's mind flew into a panic as part of him began to scream. No, something about all of this was wrong. Something about all of this wasn't right, but he couldn't quite place it.   
  
His panic grew, making him shiver and yet clutch tighter at the stone, attempting to take comfort in its presence.  
  
From the distance beyond him, there was the sound of clicking metal. The boy glanced up and saw, above the shadows, a swirl of metallic red. The chains moved through the air like serpents, hypnotic in their movements as they swayed back and forth.   
  
Serpents watching and stalking their prey.  
  
And yet, he wasn't afraid of them. Something about the chains just didn't scare him. Something about them seemed welcoming, almost comforting.  
  
The boy stepped toward them.  
  
Immediately a shadow moved up in front of him, blocking his path. Yet this shadow stood out from the others, more real, more solid.  
  
With a quick movement the shadow's hand came down and slapped against the boy's, hitting his hand hard and loudly.   
  
The stone fell from his grasp, clattering to the floor.  
  
And the vision shattered.  
  
**  
  
Quatre shuddered and gasped for breath as Duo's room faded back into view around him. He found Heero standing in front of him with a worried look, watching him carefully.  
  
"Are you all right?" Heero asked softly.  
  
Quatre nodded, his eyes drifting down to the stone on the floor. "I don't want to touch that thing again."  
  
Heero nodded. Walking to the bed, he took the pillowcase from Duo's pillow and used that to wrap around the small red stone. Wrapping the fabric tightly around it, he tucked it in his pocket, most of the fabric hanging out due to its size.  
  
"Lets go."  
  
Quatre nodded and followed Heero out the window.  
  
**  
  
Raymond looked out his window as the three figures rushed off into the night. Glaring at the window and the streetlight beyond, he crawled out of his bed and carefully got dressed. Then he was moving.  
  
Out the door.  
  
Into the garage.  
  
He started his car and headed for the hospital.  
  
**  
  
Never ever in her life had Catherine thought she would do something like this. She'd always prided herself on being a good friend, someone who could be trusted to help out in most situations. Her friends trusted her. So that trust extended to her co-workers… right?  
  
Apparently not.  
  
Catherine finished erasing the pencil markings on the sheets before her and quickly refilled them where they belonged. Putting away the white-out and pencils, she quickly glanced around again. Luckily the desk worker was still responding to the phony page Quatre had made over the PA system and it would probably be another minute before she came back. Catherine cleaned up all evidence of her visit and quickly left the desk, just as one of the doctors was passing the front desk. Politely, she nodded to him in greeting and continued easily on her way toward Duo's room, clutching the clipboard to her chest a little more tighter then normal. She only hoped that the others were ready with whatever they were planning.  
  
She'd changed the files and schedules as much as she could, but those changes didn't get rid of ten years of habit. The same orderly worked this late at night, and it was perfectly possible for him to just check in on Duo's room without noticing that the list said he didn't need to anymore. They were all walking on thin ice with this, and there wasn't much time to play around with.  
  
Picking up her steps, she ducked into Duo's hospital room and shut the door behind her, locking it and pulling the shade down over the window, praying no one would notice it. Giving a small sigh, she turned to see how the other two were doing.  
  
Duo lay silently in the hospital bed, still looking like a vegetable hooked up to all his cords and the heart monitor, which regulated their movements with its high pitched beep. Heero was watching Duo's reflection in the mirror while Quatre was setting up three candles on the floor around a bowl made of blue glass, filled partially with water.  
  
"What are we doing? A séance?" Catherine asked, setting down her clipboard on the nearest flat surface, which was a small table by the door.  
  
"It's a little complicated to explain, but this is basically the set up we used when we were in Heero's room." Quatre replied, lighting all the candles with a pocket lighter. "Is that right?" He directed to Heero.  
  
Heero turned and looked at the candles and gave a nod. "Catherine, can you get the lights?"  
  
Catherine walked over and flicked them off, then turned back to join the group sitting on the floor, surrounding the candles. Heero sat directly across from the mirror, still watching Duo's reflection.  
  
"You know, you two… anyone else and I'd question their sanity."   
  
Quatre smiled softly, nodding his head in understanding. "Sanity is relative sometimes."  
  
"No kidding. Well, let's get this started. So uhhh… are we going to chant or something?"  
  
Heero and Quatre give small chuckles, Catherine's comment ridding the room of its tension momentarily. Both Quatre and Catherine faced Heero and Catherine suddenly realized something, Heero hadn't explained his plan to either of them.  
  
"Heero? You do know what you're doing, right?"  
  
Heero nodded. Reaching into his pocket he took out the red stone, the candle light flickering across it to make it almost look like it was pulsating in his hand. From behind them, in the bed, Catherine swore she heard Duo take a deeper breath then normal, but she decided against saying anything. Instead, she watched as Heero placed the stone in the bowl of water between them, letting it rest there, inside the circle of candles. The red stone and blue bowl melded together in the candlelight, flashing purple hues around the room. Purple hues that matched Duo's eyes in the picture Heero had showed her.  
  
"Heero…" She said softly again.  
  
"Quatre, I want you to do the exact thing you did the other night. But this time, try and include Catherine." Heero gave a small helpless look. "Does that make sense?"  
  
The blond nodded. "Right. So then I guess you start this. Close your eyes and call for the dream, then I'll let you lead."  
  
Heero nodded and closed his eyes. Catherine followed his example, closing her own eyes and sitting as still as she could. Without thinking she soon finds herself linking hands with the other two boys and lets herself get caught up in the incessant beeping from the heart monitor. The sound fills her ears, blocking out everything else. Catherine lets go, and lets herself melt into the sound.   
  
**  
  
The bell rang incessantly at the desk, the large hand hitting it over and over.  
  
"All right! All right! This isn't the emergency ward, hold your horses!"  
  
Raymond Maxwell glared as the young girl raced back to the desk, her hair slipping partially out of the bun on her head as she hurried back to her post.  
  
"Who is in charge of checking on my son tonight?" Raymond demanded, quickly.  
  
"Let me see," the young woman flipped through the papers quickly, nearly giving herself numerous paper cuts as the older man tapped his fingers on the desk. "Your son... your son… he's… not on our list."  
  
"What?!"  
  
"He's not. His name isn't listed here. Solo Raymond, right? Well, he's not on the list tonight, that's strange…"  
  
Raymond didn't stay to hear anymore. Turning away from the desk, he started at a brisk walk toward his son's room.  
  
"Sir! Visiting hours are over, you can't-"  
  
"Then send security! I'm going to check on my son!" Raymond hissed the words at her and quickened his pace toward the room.  
  
The young woman responded by picking up the phone and calling security as she watched him disappear around the corner.  
  
**  
  
Quatre took another low breath, concentrating on the blue bowl in front of him and holding onto Heero and Catherine's hand. He could hear their breathing, and it already sounded like Heero was sleeping, his small breaths even and light. They had to be close, and he could only hope that this would work. Taking another breath and letting it out, he relaxed and let go. He kept his concentration on the stone and the presence of his cousin sleeping in the bed.  
  
Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he heard someone banging on the door.  
  
Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard it flying open.  
  
But he didn't respond. He couldn't. Instead he just let himself drift away.  
  
** 


	15. chapter 14

Chapter 14  
  
He hung quietly in the darkness, feeling the warm and beating chains shift quietly around his skin. He didn't bother to open his eyes; it wasn't as if anything had changed. He knew exactly what he would see, and he knew how it would make his heart sink more and more with each look.  
  
Duo sighed softly in hopelessness.  
  
He wondered if he could even remember what the world outside his mind looked like anymore. The world he used to be a part of. The world outside the Merrillian's hold.  
  
He'd given up struggling a long time ago. Whatever these chains were made of, they wouldn't break. At first he'd found it creepy and scary how they pulsated and glowed red just like a living body. He could feel an echoing heartbeat from the chains, gently thumping against his skin where the chains wrapped around his body. And every day another chain was added, lifting him slightly farther up; farther and farther away from everything.   
  
He looked now and there was nothing below him. He used to be able to see the ground, but it was gone now, replaced by an abyss of darkness that completely engulfed him and closed in around and engulfed him. Of course, that floor had never been real in the first place. But rather a figment of his imagination placed there to help him feel like he still had a bit of control, in the beginning. It had disappeared a long time ago.  
  
The chains shifted around him again, pulling tighter then normal, pinching his skin. This time, Duo opened his eyes and looked out in to the darkness around him, a small bit of hope lighting in his mind.  
  
The chains were acting protective again, pulling at him as if trying to draw him closer and away from something. They rarely did that, in fact, it was a very recent action, that happened only when he was able to communicate through dreams.  
  
He'd discovered that one small release by accident and luckily had been able to make use of it. Years upon years of hanging in darkness did leave one plenty of time to test every possible way of trying to reach the outside world. He'd lost count of the years and the times he'd tried different things. All he knew now was that somewhere along the line he'd stopped struggling physically and figured out that this prison he was in was actually somewhere in the deepest reaches of his mind. In a way everything about this was an illusion, but that didn't make the chains any looser in their grip.  
  
About the time he'd noticed that, he also began to notice something else. Within the darkness around him, there were actually many other shadows. Shadows of people, young boys just like himself, their voices whispering incoherently as one, in many languages at once. He couldn't see them but he could feel them around him. They surrounded him and, to a point, were part of him, constantly whispering and murmuring in his mind things he couldn't understand.  
  
How long had each of those boys lasted before they'd died?  
  
Was he even alive anymore?  
  
Duo had no way to even know that the other he'd managed to contact was real. Maybe he had just lost so much hope that he was resorting to making up chances of escape. That's probably what it was, him imagining everything with Heero, just making it up so he could comfort himself in this eternal darkness.  
  
But he couldn't banish the small wish that it wasn't just a dream.   
  
He didn't want to fade into the darkness and join the rest of those boys.   
  
He didn't want to become one of the silently murmuring voices, that just whispered for eternity about the stone that had given them amazing powers, but had stripped their life away in return.  
  
Oh the voices were incoherent all right, but at the same time he could hear their stories, feel their sadness at being shut out and yet always alive. Locked away from everything.  
  
They all started the same, a boy who came across the same red stone and held it in his hand. From that moment the first chain linked, tying him to the stone. It was a small chain and not even Duo had noticed it at first. He'd carried the stone with him everywhere; not even thinking it was strange. He kept it in his pocket, often wrapping his hand around it to feel the smooth facets against his fingers. The stone was always warm, comforting even, and whenever it was in his hands he found he felt safe and in control.  
  
It was like an addiction.  
  
He'd started to suspect when the dreams began.   
  
Duo had had dreams all his life, thanks to his shared genes from the Winner family line. Dreams scattered with small bits of déjà vu and other odd occurrences. But they were always small things that could easily be passed off as coincidence. Yet, when the stone came into the picture, they changed.  
  
The dreams became hauntingly real, scaring him as they showed him visions of things that would happen to him and those around him. He saw flashes of his father sitting at the computer, angrily wiping away his tears as he printed out picture after picture of his son, surrounded by framing materials. He saw Quatre sitting in his room stonily, a dead look in his eyes as he held a small framed picture in his hands, too broken to even cry over something horrible that had happened. And those were the tame dreams.  
  
They started small, then came every night. He had lost sleep over them, tossing and turning and crying out silently as they came over and over again in his mind. Image after image of what would happen in the future to those around him. And even more frightening were the images of himself, lying in a hospital bed, cold and pale, looking nearly dead with machines hooked everywhere. Those images had made him curl in on himself and cry from fear, somehow knowing that the stone wasn't lying to him.  
  
He had tried to get rid of it. Tried to let go and leave things be, but by then he couldn't. The chains were just too numerous and tight. No matter how much he struggled the visions kept coming and he couldn't stop them. And then…  
  
Then somehow he'd ended up here.  
  
He couldn't remember how it had happened, but he figured he'd fallen asleep and just never left the dream that the stone pulled him into. So here he was, hanging in an abyss of darkness, the same voices whispering over and over in his ears, crying to him about their similar stories and how their lives had been destroyed.  
  
At least the visions had stopped.  
  
Duo shuddered quietly, the chains around him shaking and clanking with the movement. Opening his eyes more he scanned the darkness, feeling the chains shift again, tighter and tighter.  
  
Yes, something was definitely here. Or rather, someone.  
  
At that thought, the darkness below him shimmered and a floor appeared with three shadows sitting in a circle, their hands clasped together. Duo watched silently as one of the shadows stood up and moved toward him. The other two shifted into wisps of air that danced around both of them, lighting up the darkness with an eerie light.  
  
Heero smiled at Duo in reassurance.  
  
"I figured it out," he said quietly and Duo gave a nod.  
  
All he could do was nod and show his happiness with his eyes. He'd lost his ability to talk a long time ago. Or so he thought.  
  
Heero moved closer to him and touched his face gently, and Duo leaned into the touch, basking in the actual feel of another human's skin. It had been so long…  
  
Heero's arms wrapped around him, holding him in a protective embrace that Duo only wished he could return. Letting his eyes close, he concentrated on the arms around him, trying to give the other boy strength to do whatever he needed to do to stop this. Anything, anything to be free again.  
  
All around him, he felt the chains shift again, jerking tightly this time, twisting his skin and causing him to cry out softly. To his surprise, his pained voice echoed around the darkness, mingling in with the whispers of pain.  
  
Duo's eyes opened wide in fear. No… he was becoming one of them… No!  
  
The two wisps of air materialized and Duo recognized one as faintly resembling Quatre, while the other was a female he's never seen before. Both wrapped their misty arms around him, while the chains responded with another jerk.  
  
Duo cried out, the chains pulling at him tightly. Tears slipped down his cheeks from the pain and yet also from happiness. The chains never acted like this before, so they must be close. So close.  
  
"Don't stop," he whispered softly, his voice melding with those around him. He only hoped the others can hear it before it faded into the darkness around him. "Don't let go."  
  
A red light appeared in the distance and grew brighter around them. The voices lifted in to a roar, working into a high pitched screeching like an approaching storm. Duo closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Summoning his strength he pulled with his arms, physically fighting the chains again as the others held on to him tightly. He could feel them doing something, but he wasn't sure what. And all around him the red light grew brighter, screeching louder in rage at being fought.  
  
"You can't keep him!" Quatre's voice rang out around them.  
  
"Just shut up and go away!" The girl's voice follows, yelling back at the roaring around them, almost like she's scolding a young child.  
  
Duo's eyes snapped open at that thought and he finds Heero starring back at him, almost as if he's realized the same thing.  
  
"A child?" Duo murmured softly.  
  
Heero responded with a small nod and a light filled his eyes. A light of realization.  
  
That's it! Duo proclaimed loudly in his mind.  
  
"Stop resisting it," Heero's voice is soft at first, then grows louder for the others to hear. "Don't resist it, listen to what it wants."  
  
Duo nodded to himself and watched the others relax around him, letting the red light roar and wash over them in waves.  
  
The voices around him roared loudly, and then seem to fade, shifting and dropping into one voice.  
  
A voice that is crying softly.  
  
Duo's eyes widened in realization as he finally understood the thing that had eluded him all the years he'd been a prisoner. The one voice he'd never been able to hear and the cry that had never reached him.  
  
All at once, the chains around him faded away and he was no longer suspended in the air. All four of them drifted down to the ground, landing gently.  
  
Red sparkled through the air, raining around them like a small storm. As the sparkles drifted down, they swirled over and created a small shape. The gentle crying voice grew louder, but not horribly so. Instead the shape seemed to take form, becoming that of a child who was curled in upon himself, crying gently.  
  
Duo watched silently as Heero let go of him and stood up. Heero stepped over to the small crying boy and knelt down next to him, a small smile crossing his face.  
  
"Shhh," he said softly.  
  
The red form lifted its head, the undefined hands moving up in a motion of wiping away his own tears.  
  
Heero smiled again and reached his hand toward the boy.  
  
Moments pass, all of them watching quietly in anticipation.   
  
Then, slowly, the boy-shape responded, moving his own hand forward. The red hand rested lightly in Heero's, touching it timidly then settling there comfortably.  
  
Around them the sound seemed to die out and Duo closed his eyes, feeling a light breeze flow over and around his entire body. He could literally feel the darkness around him melt away, to reveal blinding but welcome light.  
  
Duo closed his eyes and turned away, bringing up a hand to cover his eyes from the light, his body screaming out in pain from the sudden movement. The light burns his eyes and his entire body tingles as if it were just now waking up. The entire process hurts and he wants nothing more then to make it stop and crawl away from the light. But more then that he wants to see the world again.   
  
So he fights it and finally manages to open his eyes, letting the light flood in and wash away all the darkness.  
  
Forever.  
  
** 


	16. chapter 15

Chapter 15  
  
"A little help here?"  
  
Quatre blinked and looked up from his pile of boxes to see Heero standing in the doorway, a stack of more boxes in his arms. The blond smiled and quickly rushed over to the door, holding it open for Heero and his companion behind him. Duo grinned at Quatre from behind the pile of boxes in his lap and wheeled into the room.  
  
"It figures my own cousin would use me to haul his stuff into his room," Duo joked, working his way over to the bed so he could unload the boxes.  
  
Quatre put on a mock pout. "If you guys didn't want to help all you had to do was say so."  
  
Duo grinned. "Naw, I was just joking. Besides, I'm stuck in this wheel chair for a while; I might as well make use of it. I'm gonna go get more boxes and see where Catherine disappeared to." Duo tossed a wink in Heero's direction then wheeled himself out the door and down the hall toward the elevator.  
  
Heero set his boxes down in a corner and glanced around the dorm room with a frown. "They fit two people in here?"  
  
"Two, sometimes three. I know it's small, but I don't mind." Quatre smiled. "I've been all alone in my parent's huge house for so long, this will be a welcome change. Plus I'm sure I'll be out studying for my classes a lot. My dorm's just a place to sleep right? I have lots of other places to hang out."  
  
Heero nodded. "And you know you're welcome to come visit Catherine and I at our houses."  
  
"He had better. I'm gonna need help tearing you away from your boyfriend and paintings now. And I thought I had it bad before…" Catherine stepped into the room with another box and set it on top of the others. The pile leaned a bit and she gave a small cry of surprise, quickly moving it so it would stay standing.  
  
"That should be everything… where's Duo?"  
  
Heero glanced at the door and raced over to it as Duo wheeled himself into view, taking something from his hands and bringing it into the room. Quatre abandoned the box he was in the mist of unpacking and stood up, walking over with a skeptical look.  
  
"I don't remember packing anything in that shape."  
  
Heero glanced to Duo, who smirked back at him and Catherine. "You didn't."  
  
"Oh? So then what is it?" Quatre moved over and took the large, thin, paper wrapped object from them. Upon taking it into his hands he realized that it was semi soft under the paper. And judging by the size… a painting? His eyes widened and he looked back at the others.  
  
"You guys didn't have to…"  
  
"Oh nonsense! This is your new dorm room and your first year of college that isn't home taught. You need something in here… it's like a dorm-warming gift." Catherine chuckled softly. "Heero painted it himself, so you have to take it."  
  
"Go on," Duo urged quietly.  
  
Quatre nodded and slipped the paper off, ripping it carefully to make sure he didn't damage what was inside. Slowly a painted was revealed before his eyes, one that made his breath catch in his throat and his eyes slightly water.  
  
Watching him back from the painting was a pair of green eyes, a pair of eyes he hadn't seen in over a year now. The picture before him was so perfect it could have been a photo. Trowa sat on his favorite rock near the river, the image of Quatre wrapped in his arms as they both looked out over the peaceful water. Quatre bit his lower lip as he looked down at the painting, smiling happily.  
  
"Thank you," he managed to murmur softly.  
  
Heero smiled back at him and walked over, taking the painting and hanging it on a hook on the wall, right over where Quatre had started to set up his computer on the desk. "I know it's a poor substitute for him, since he's gone, but I thought it would help you remember him."  
  
Quatre nodded happily, wiping the small tears from his eyes. "It's perfect."  
  
"He would have loved it," Catherine agreed quietly.  
  
The group stood there for a moment looking at the painting, before splitting up again and helping Quatre to unpack the rest of his belongings. Idle conversation passed between them as Heero worked to set up the computer, Duo handing him pieces and cords from different boxes. Meanwhile Quatre put away his books on the small shelf provided and Catherine rearranged things so that there was a 'woman's touch' to the room.   
  
Not surprisingly, with everything that had happened that summer, the four had become nearly inseparable after Duo had woken up. Due to being in the hospital for so long and not using his muscles, Duo was confined to a wheel chair with daily sessions of therapy to get all his limbs working correctly again. With only a few months of work he'd managed to get strong enough to move the chair on his own for a little while, not needing someone to push him save for when he worked for too long. Despite the constant need of a wheel chair, and how much his father hovered around him protectively, Duo never seemed to stop grinning and laughing. Especially when he was around Heero.  
  
For Heero's part, the young painter had regained a smile that hadn't been present on his face since forever. He laughed easily now and Duo always took advantage of this, making them all laugh with his jokes and witty comments. Heero had even started joking back, losing his usual somber and loner mood to reveal a side that most of his friends hadn't seen before.  
  
Out of all of them, it could be argued that Quatre had changed the most. Once Duo had woken up Quatre had started to let himself take more of a part in the world, which he'd stopped doing when Trowa died. He ended the home schooling he'd requested, and instead moved to be accepted into Heero and Catherine's college. Due to excellent school records it was merely a wink and Quatre was accepted into the college, only a mere year behind others his age. For the first time in a long while, he wasn't afraid of being around people despite his small abilities and fear of getting close to people. And Duo was doing his best to chip away at that fear nearly tirelessly.  
  
Not so strangely, Catherine hadn't changed much. But she'd gained two more very close friends.   
  
"So, I have a strange question for all of you." Catherine took a piece of the pizza they'd ordered as they finished up the rest of the unpacking, and took a seat on the floor, leaning against the closet door.  
  
"Hm? What's that?" Duo asked as Heero handed him a piece.  
  
"Well, what ever happened to that strange little boy? Or am I the only one who hallucinated it into existence?"  
  
Quatre blinked as he took a bite of his own piece. "You know, you're right. I remember seeing a young boy in Duo's dream too. But he wasn't really a boy, more like a shadow. And I think I remember Heero hugging him." He glanced over at Heero. "Right?"  
  
Heero nodded with a small frown. "I don't know what it was, but I think I have a small idea. It wasn't human. I think it was-"  
  
"The Merrillian." Duo said softly, cutting off Heero's sentence.  
  
All three turned to the wheel-chair bound boy in silence, waiting for more explanation. Duo ran a hand through his short hair, frowning as he always did when he was reminded it was cut, and leaned back in the chair.   
  
"I don't know everything about it, in fact I'm willing to bet I know very little. But I do know that hanging in darkness for that long gives you plenty of time to think. My guess is that the stone was completely normal at first. But somewhere along the line it grew a being of its own and…" he frowned, trying to place the words correctly. "It was lonely."  
  
"You're kidding right? How could a rock get lonely?" Catherine scoffed, in disbelief.  
  
"I can see it happening. But then I'm biased, I've seen a lot of strange things in my family." Quatre commented.  
  
Heero looked to Duo with a small frown and a worried look. "What happened to the stone?"  
  
"I don't know. I never saw it after I woke up. And I asked the doctors but they said nothing like that was ever found in the room." Duo sighed softly. "I know I'm going to sound silly, but I swear all it seemed to want was to live… with others."  
  
The four sat in silence, pondering those words for a while as they ate the pizza. No one knew what to say to Duo's voiced opinion because, to an extent, all of them had similar thoughts. If it hadn't sounded so improbable… if this whole thing hadn't seemed to unreal…  
  
A knock sounded on the dorm room door and a smile broke across Quatre's face as he got to his feet. "That's probably my room mate." He stood up and crossed the room, managing to jump to the side so he didn't step on Catherine's hand at the last second, then straightened himself and went for the door, pulling it open with a smile.  
  
Silence dropped in the room and Heero dropped the piece of pizza he had, while Catherine gave a small cry of surprise. Quatre stood frozen by the door, his eyes wide and unblinking… and Duo was the only one who seemed unfazed, just sitting there with a small smile on his face. As for the person at the door…  
  
Quatre took a deep breath and stared back at a pair of emerald green eyes, one of which was covered by auburn hair. He barely managed to breathe as the other just blinked back at him.  
  
"Trowa?" He choked out in disbelief.  
  
The boy before him stood there silently, looking just as confused and shaken. He'd dropped his suitcase, and now his hands were trembling as the two looked at each other, each trying to breathe and speak.  
  
"How?" Quatre whispered out in disbelief.  
  
But he didn't get his answer. Instead the boy before him took one step forward and wrapped his arms tightly around Quatre, hugging him like there was no tomorrow. Quatre melted into the embrace, tears slipping from his eyes in amazement as he hugged him back, still dealing with his own shock.  
  
From inside the room, Catherine managed to stumble to her feet and crossed the room, using the closet doors for support so she wouldn't fall over. She made it over to the couple, his own eyes wide, when the boy pulled away and looked at her.  
  
"Cathy." He said softly, a sad smile crossing his lips.   
  
That was all the proof that she needed. In a second the young woman was joining in the embrace, wrapping her arms around both of them and muttering incoherent phrases and questions like crazy.  
  
Heero watched all of it with a surprised look of his own. But instead of stumbling to his feet and joining in, he turned and glanced at Duo, noticing the small smile on his face.  
  
"How?" Heero asked softly.  
  
Duo glanced down at him, that same knowing smile on his face. Lifting one hand, he tapped the side of his ear and then nodded to Trowa who stood in the doorway with Quatre and Catherine.  
  
Heero's eyes wandered to Trowa's ears and he gave a soft gasp as he noticed what Duo was pointing out.  
  
Each of Trowa's ear had a small red earring, made of a simple red stone that glimmered softly.   
  
The painter's eyes widened in surprise and understanding, every piece finally falling into place as a smile crossed his own lips. Standing to his feet, he made his way over and joined the embrace as well, welcoming back his old friend.  
  
Duo remained in the back of the room, smiling softly.  
  
"It seems," he murmured softly. "That everyone got their wish, even you… Merrillian."  
  
The end.  
  
(though there will be a lemony epilouge in the future) 


	17. Epilogue

Epilogue   
  
It started like all the other times. As he lay in the  
bed and closed his eyes, he could feel the small  
sensation of pulling surround him. He relaxed in the  
bed, letting his body grow light and let his mind go,  
completely releasing himself. The sensation of  
floating surrounded him and he let go of his body,  
following the urge and leaving his body behind. He  
could feel himself lift into the air, travelling  
through the air like it was nothing. The simple  
feelings and movements felt completely natural now,  
something he'd been born with, an ability he'd always  
had. He knew if he opened his eyes he'd see his house  
pass out of sight and he'd be able to follow the path  
to Duo's house, passing all the familiar houses and  
street signs, passing miles in seconds to arrive in a  
breath's moment.   
  
But instead, he kept his eyes closed, just letting  
himself float to his destination. Only when he reached  
it, did he open his eyes. Duo's house stood in front  
of him and he let himself be pulled in through one of  
the windows, floating through it like it was an  
illusion of space and time. A moment passed with him  
floating above Duo's bed, where the boy laid  
peacefully, before he floated down and melded into  
Duo's body, then the scene changed.   
  
Blue light melted in on his sight, melding with the  
deep violet of Duo's eyes, before it all melted  
together and flashed, leaving Heero kneeling in a dark  
place with nothing. Getting to his feet, he glanced  
around and waited.   
  
Before him an image seemed to appear and slowly Duo's  
room phased into view, wavering like a reflection on  
water, showing the boy lying silently in his bed. Duo  
opened his eyes and glanced around, then smiled as he  
spotted Heero. Heero smiled softly back and walked  
over to the bed, sitting on the edge next to him as  
Duo sat up and leaned against the simple wooden  
headboard. "You're getting a hang of travelling  
quickly and easily. You responded almost instantly  
when I called." Duo said softly, placing his hand over  
Heero's. His smile widened when he found that Heero's  
hand felt as solid as the other surroundings.   
  
"It still takes a bit of getting used to, this whole  
travelling thing." Heero reached over and gently  
touched Duo's long hair, sliding his hand over the  
braid. "I miss this. You look so different without  
it."   
  
Duo chuckled softly. "If I ever find the person who  
chopped it off… No, but seriously it'll grow back. And  
until then, it'll take some getting used to for the  
both of us. It feel so strange when I'm awake, my head  
is so light… I swear if it weren't attached to my neck  
it would float away." Duo stopped then frowned. "And  
no air head jokes!"   
  
Heero held up his hand and shook his head. "You have  
my word, no joking I promise."  
  
The two chuckled softly for a moment then Duo leaned  
his head on Heero's shoulder, resting against him  
silently as Heero gently stroked his hair. "It's  
strange still. I guess I got so used to not being  
around people… the crowds scare me now," he said  
softly, his eyes wandering around the room. "The  
retraining center is the worst, all those people who  
seem to want to help me learn to use my muscles again.  
Four people to help me stand, all hovering around me,  
hooking me up to things, monitoring me… It creeps me  
out." Duo shuddered a bit. "I like these dreams so  
much more."  
  
"You'll get used to the crowds again. Quatre told me  
you used to be quite outgoing with everyone."   
  
"Hmph," Duo snorted softly. "I still am, it's a great  
way to hide how scared they all make me. Sometimes  
it's so hard… sometimes I wonder if I'll ever get out  
of that blasted chair." Heero smiled gently at him and  
reached down, pulling the tie out of Duo's hair.  
Glancing back at the bedside table, he closed his eyes  
and willed a brush to appear. Upon opening his eyes  
again, he found exactly that on the table. Picking it  
up he went about the business of silently taking down  
Duo's long braid and brushing out his hair. Meanwhile,  
Duo sat silently and let himself be pampered, relaxing  
with each stroke of the brush. These dreams happened  
every night for the both of them. Duo's father was  
still overprotective and it took hours of convincing  
just for him to let Duo out of the house, much less  
out of his sight. It made things easier to not fight  
him and just have Heero visit every night after they  
both drifted off to sleep.   
  
While being together in dreams could never be a  
replacement for real life, at the moment it was the  
best they could do. And it was the best way to  
continue their relationship without letting anyone  
else know about it, who wasn't ready to know yet.  
Heero pulled the brush through Duo's hair lightly,  
smoothing out the long locks. Leaning forward, he  
gently kissed the side of Duo's neck as he set the  
brush down. Duo smiled and leaned back, giving Heero  
more room to explore. "That feels nice…" He murmured  
softly. Heero didn't agree or disagree, but rather  
showed his agreement by kissing Duo again and wrapping  
his arms around him, pulling him close. Duo's eyes  
slid shut in pleasure and he shifted in Heero's arms,  
turning around to face him and catch his lips, kissing  
him back gently. Both decided to dispense with  
conversation and small talk, letting the words  
disappear as they communicated in other ways. Both lay  
back on the bed, kissing and entwining their astral  
bodies as the clothes and covers were willed away for  
ease.   
  
In the end, nothing was left around them save for the  
bed, and even that melted away to leave them seemingly  
floating in air. Such things weren't needed in this  
world. Heero moved on top of Duo, still kissing him  
gently as their bodies pressed together and their  
breaths became more hurried. In spite of it all being  
a dream world, all in their minds through a psychic  
link, it felt as real as it would in life. The only  
difference was the lack of surroundings and the  
possibility of them being caught. Both let themselves  
be free and forgot about the world, lost in each other  
and not caring. They had the entire night to do as  
they wished and seemingly no time was wasted.   
  
Bodies pressed together as hands explored every inch,  
learning as much about each other as touch could  
teach. Sensations were explored, reactions tested, and  
teasing placed everywhere. Time didn't exist between  
them and neither took control, while both submitted to  
the other.   
  
Some day they would be able to reenact such a thing in  
real life, when Duo regained the use of all his  
muscles and Heero helped him to that point. But until  
that time came, both sleep through the night  
satisfied. Because in the mind, reality is decided by  
thoughts and even though the touches shared are  
imagined… they are real enough for the time being.   
  
"I never got a chance to thank you in person." Duo  
whispered softly as he lay in Heero's arms, feeling  
his body glow from the sensations.   
  
Heero smiled softly and kissed him on the forehead.  
"We'll be able to thank each other soon enough. Don't  
worry about it now."   
  
"Love you Heero."   
  
"Love you too."   
  
End. 


End file.
